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SEAVER 
HACK 


ISABELLA  ORSINI. 


torn  a.  poual  St**™*^ 


ISABELLA  ORSINI: 


lustnriml  Uunrl  nf  Up  f  iftatlj  <fMttrr[. 


F.  D.  GUERRAZZI, 

<3utljor  of  "  Beatrice  Ccnti." 


TRANSLATED    FROM    THE    ITALIAN, 
BY 

LUIGI   MONTI,  A.M., 

Instructor  in  Italian  at  ^arfaarU  Sni&crsita,  CamftrfBge. 


NEW  YORK: 

RUDD    &   CARLETON,   310  BROADWAY. 
MDCCCLIX. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1868,  by 
EUDD   A  CARLETON, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern 
District  of  New  York. 


R.  CRAIGHEAD, 
inier,  Stcreotyper,  and  Electrotyper, 

Carton  Builtiinjj, 

81 ,  83,  and  85  CtMrt  Street. 


TO 


CORNELIUS  C.  FELTON,  LL.D., 

ELIOT    PROFESSOR    OF    GREEK    LITERATURE 
AT  HARVARD  UNIVERSITY, 

As  a  mark  of  gratitude  for  his  kind  advice, 
urbanity,  and  friendship, 

THIS  TRANSLATION  is  DEDICATED. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  L 
Guilt, 15 

CHAPTER  TL 
Love, 26 

CHAPTER  III. 
The  Knight  Lionardo  Salviati, 49 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Homicide, 84 

CHAPTER  Y. 
Pasquino, '  .        .        .        .     106 

CHAPTER  YI. 
The  Son, 147 

CHAPTER  YH. 
Jealousy, 172 

CHAPTER  YIIL 
The  Confession, 206 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Death, 253 


LETTER. 


GENOA,  June  3Oth,   1858. 

MY  DEAR  SIR, 

IN  reply  to  your  letter  dated  May  2yth,  I 
send  you  a  portrait  of  ISABELLA  ORSINI.  You 
could  not  have  been  successful  in  obtaining  it 
from  any  one  except  myself,  for  notwithstanding 
the  many  researches  made  for  it,  I  procured  it 
only  after  great  difficulty.  I  went  to  the  very 
palace  wherein  she  was  murdered  by  the  wretch- 
ed hands  of  Orsini ;  I  was  even  on  the  point  of 
having  the  coffin  wherein  she  was  buried  opened, 
but  several  reasons  deterred  me,  the  principal 
one  being  that  the  body,  after  so  long  a  time, 
must  have  become  ashes.  At  last,  while  I  was 
in  prison,  the  Marquis  *  *  *  died :  his  heirs 
(three  Marquises)  immediately  sold  books,  pic- 


xii  LETTER. 

tures,  furniture,  and  every  family  relic.  Among 
these,  a  friend  of  mine  found  a  bronze  medal 
of  ISABELLA  ORSINI,  a  copy  of  which  I  send  you. 
On  the  reverse  of  the  medal  is  a  bush  with  flow- 
ers, fruits,  and  the  inscription  FLORES.  SIMUL.  ET. 
FRUCTUS. 

A  photograph  of  it  did  not  succeed  well.  I 
would  willingly  send  you  the  medal  itself,  but 
fear  that  it  may  be  lost,  and  thus  the  only  por- 
trait of  that  unfortunate  woman  be  for  ever  de- 
stroyed, deters  me.  I  have,  however,  caused  a 
drawing  to  be  executed  by  one  of  our  best  artists, 
CHEVALIER  FRASCHERI,  Professor  of  Painting  in 
the  Ligurian  Academy,  which  I  think  will  please 
you. 

Yours  very  affectionately, 

F.    D.    GUERRAZZI. 


To  Sic.  LUIGI  MONTI, 
Boston,  Mass. 


ISABELLA     ORSINI. 


CHAPTER  I. 


GUILT. 

But  Jesus  stooped  down,  and  with  his  finger  wrote  on  the  ground,  as  though 
he  heard  them  not 

So  when  they  continued  asking  him,  he  lifted  up  himself  and  said  unto  them : 
1  He  that  is  without  sin  among  you,  let  him  first  cast  a  stone  at  her.'  *  *  *  * 

And  Jesus  said  unto  her,   Neither  do  I  condemn  thee  ;  go  and  sin  no  more. 

— ST.  JOHN  viii. 

"AvE  MARIA!  O  being,  at  whose  sight  the  Eternal 
One  was  persuaded  to  offer  himself  as  an  expiatory  vic- 
tim to  the  irrevocable  justice  of  his  laws,  for  the  race  of 
which  thou  wast  born ;  O  Virgin !  into  whose  bosom 
God  penetrated  like  the  purest  ray  into  clear  water ;  O 
Mother !  who  in  thy  bosom,  better  than  in  the  Holy 
Ark,  barest  Divinity,  have  mercy  upon  me. 

"  Ave  Maria  1  Queen  of  Heaven :  God  has  surrounded 
thee  with  the  most  loving  angels  that  he  ever  created 
in  the  exultation  of  his  glory.  God  has  chosen  from  the 
fields  of  the  firmament  the  most  brilliant  stars  to  form 
thy  crown ;  beneath  thy  feet  has  he  placed  the  sun  and 
moon.  Christ  reposes  on  thy  arm  as  on  a  high  throne 
to  govern  creation.  Thou  that  canst  do  all  things,  have 
mercy  upon  me. 

"  Ave  Maria  !  God  shed  his  own  blood  in  observance 
of  the  decrees  of  his  law.  Thou  conquerest  even  those 
decrees,  for  when  loving  appeals  failed,  thou  didst 
remove  the  eternal  from  thy  holy  arm,  and  didst  kneel 


16  Isabella  Orsini. 

before  him,  to  win  by  thy  prayers  what  thy  request  had 
failed  to  obtain ;  for  what  mail  or  God  could  see  his 
mother  prostrate  at  his  feet  and  disdainfully  spurn  her  ? 
God  is  above,  not  against  nature.  Mercy  then,  oh,  have 
mercy  upon  me ! 

"  Ave  Maria  !  If  thou  but  turncst  one  look  of  kind- 
ness upon  the  soul  of  the  parricide,  lo,  it  will  become  as 
pure  as  that  of  the  babe  newly  baptized.  Thou  that 
hast  a  tear  for  every  sorrow,  thou  that  from  misery  hast 
learned  to  relieve  the  unfortunate,  thou  that  bringest  a 
balm  for  every  wound,  good  counsel  for  every  fallen  one, 
help  for  every  fault,  protection  from  every  crime,  wilt 
thou  be  deaf  to  me  alone  ? 

"Does  the  contemplation  of  thy  heavenly  glories 
dissuade  thee  from  casting  down  thine  eyes  upon  this 
vale  of  tears  ?  Have  the  praises  of  the  angels  caused  the 
groans  of  thy  servants  to  become  wearisome  ?  Mother 
of  thy  Creator,  hast  thou  forgotten  thy  earthly  origin  ? 
Is  it  hi  heaven  above,  as  in  this  world  below ! 

"  All,  unhappy  me !  Most  miserable !  My  mind  reels 
and  staggers  like  a  drunken  man.  I  am  beyond  measure 
inebriated  with  grief,  and  my  rash  words  flow  from  my 
mouth  like  the  wind  of  a  tempest. 

"  Holy  Mary,  pardon !  Thou  knowest  that  even  when 
a  child,  leaving  my  warm  bed  to  bathe  my  feet  in  the 
dewy  grass,  I  went  to  gather  the  flowers  that  drank  the 
first  rays  of  the  morning  sun  for  thee.  Thou  knowest 
that  I  have  watched  like  a  vestal,  so  that  the  light  con- 
secrated to  thee  on  the  domestic  altar  should  not  be 
extinguished ;  and  if  I  committed  any  act  not  worthy  of 
thy  holy  sight,  I  first  veiled  thy  face,  and  afterwards 
implored  thy  pardon.  In  thee  alone  I  trust. 


.    Guilt.  17 

"  My  blood  is  inflamed,  and  the  very  marrow  of  my 
bones  consumed  by  a  love 

"  Who  called  it  love  ?  Did  I  say  love  ?  Ah,  in  pity 
let  no  one  know  it — let  no  one  hear  it — let  my. ears  not 
listen  to  the  words  from  my  own  lips !  Madness !  Ah, 
what  matter  if  I  have  hell  in  my  heart  ?  Yes,  an  infa- 
mous love  burns  within  me ;  a  love  to  make  even  the 
angels  weep.  O  holy  Mary,  do  not  look  into  my  soul ! 
All  the  saints  in  Paradise,  even  thou,  immaculate  Virgin ! 
would'st  blush  for  shame  to  behold  my  secret  heart. 

"  And  yet  this  passion  burns  so  secretly,  that  no  one, 
looking  on  my  pale  face,  could  say :  '  Behold  an  adul- 
teress ! '  Who  among  the  living  can  tell  whether  guilt 
or  grief  consumes  me?  As  a  sepulchral  lamp  burns, 
lighting  up  human  skeletons  without  diffusing  its  rays 
abroad,  so  my  love  lives  within  my  soul,  shining  upon 
the  miserable  relics  of  my  contaminated  virtue. 

"  But  in  this  fierce  battle  every  vital  spark  has  failed. 
Already  the  hour  approaches  when  the  abyss  will  open, 
within  which  will  fall  the  woman's  shame,  the  husband's 
honor,  family  pride,  the  mother's  love, — all  hi  short,  and 
the  soul's  safety  with  them ! 

"The  soul's  safety!  Everlasting  perdition!  And 
should  I,  hopeless  of  overcoming  the  current,  allow  my- 
self to  be  subdued  by  the  waters  ?  Should  I,  with  a  soul 
borne  down  by  grief,  dare  to  fly  from  the  sad  prison  of 
the  body  ?  Should  I,  unsummoned,  give  wings  to  my 
life,  and  take  shelter  under  the  cloak  of  God's  pardon  ? 
"Will  the  arms  of  God  open  to  receive  or  to  repulse  me  ? 
And  am  I  not  indeed  wholly  wicked  ?  O  God,  dost  thou 
not  penetrate  into  our  hearts,  and  see  how  sin  has  cor- 
roded them?  In  this  bitter  contest  I  defend  that  part 


i8  Isabella  Orsini. 

of  me  which  will  turn  to  dust ;  the  other,  which  has  im- 
mortal life,  is  for  ever  lost.  Whether  I  remain  or  fly, 
whether  I  give  up  or  resist,  Isabella,  thou  art  lost — lost 
for  ever ! 

"  Where  or  who  is  he  that  has  decreed  this  most  wicked 
law  ?  If  I  cannot  break,  I  can  at  least  rail  at  this  iron 
decree.  Have  I  not  struggled,  and  struggled  inces- 
santly ?  Where  is  my  guilt,  if  I  cannot  overcome  ?  In 
what  have  I  sinned,  if  a  serpent  while  I  slept  has  crept 
into  my  heart,  has  made  there  its  nest,  and  has  there 
revealed  itself  more  fearful  than  the  Medusa's  head? 
How  have  I  sinned,  if  my  strength  is  insufficient  to  bear 
this  cross  ?  The  fallen  should  not  be  laughed  at  nor  con- 
demned, but  aided.  Well,  since  the  guilt  contemplated 
is  equal  to  the  guilt  consummated,  and  both  incur  the 
same  punishment,  let  me  descend  wholly  into  the  abyss 
of  crime  and  die." 

These  and  other  words  were  partly  spoken,  partly 
murmured  by  a  young  and  handsome  woman,  before  a 
painting  of  the  Madonna,  the  divine  work  of  Fra  An- 
gelico.  And  this  face,  symbol  of  celestial  modesty  and 
chaste  thoughts,  seemed  as  if  frightened  at  such  prayers, 
for,  less  even  by  the  words  than  by  the  manner  in  which 
they  were  spoken,  they  seemed  almost  impious.  The 
woman  was  not  in  a  reverential  posture,  but  standing 
erect,  with  haughty  aspect,  her  eyes  sparkling,  her  breast 
heaving,  her  lips  trembling,  her  nostrils  dilated,  her  hands 
clenched,  her  feet  restless — in  short,  a  lioness  rather  than 
a  woman,  much  less  a  suppliant  woman. 

Was  she  right  ? 

The  Greeks,  investigating  diligently  the  nature  of  our 
hearts,  discovered  vice  to  be  so  inherent  in  human 


Guilt  19 

that  neither  strength  united  with  will,  nor  laws,  nor  cus- 
toms, nor  religion  itself,  could  overcome  it ;  but  with 
that  wonderful  talent  which  the  heavens  granted  to  them 
alone,  they  rendered  vice  amiable,  and  made  it  contribute 
to  the  good  of  the  republic.  Instead  of  awaiting  what 
they  could  not  prevent,  they  went  to  meet  it,  like 
Mithridates,  who,  having  to  drink  poison,  took  away  its 
power  of  doing  him  hai'in,  by  habituating  himself  to  its 
use.  They  dared  even  more ;  they  made  the  gods  the 
accomplices  of  the  errors  of  men ;  powerless  to  raise 
their  dust  to  heaven,  they  brought  heaven  down  to  the 
dust,  and  the  guilty  became  objects,  not  of  hate  but  of 
compassion,  for  they  had  yielded  to  the  omnipotent  power 
of  fate,  to  which  even  Jupiter  was  subject — fate  which 
guides  the  willing  and  drags  the  reluctant. 

This  idea,  extended  to  every  action,  they  applied  espe- 
cially to  the  affairs  of  love.  Anacreon,  whose  hair,  so 
often  crowned  with  leaves  of  the  merry  ivy  and  vine, 
was  becoming  grey,  was  seated  one  gloomy  winter's 
night  alone  before  the  fire.  Boreas  raged  over  land  and 
sea,  and  a  hurricane  of  hailstones  rattled  upon  the  poet's 
house.  He  remembers  no  more  the  rays  which  the  sun 
of  spring  sheds  upon  the  flowers  and  the  tresses  of  lovely 
women  ;  nor  the  soft  grass  scarcely  pressed  by  the  flying 
feet  of  the  dancers,  nor  the  breezes  pregnant  with  life, 
that  seem  to  murmur  in  his  ears,  "love — love;"  his 
thoughts  turn  upon  the  transitory  nature  of  our  lives 
here  below ;  he  sees  life  rolling  on  more  swiftly  than 
the  wheels  of  the  conqueror's  car  hi  the  Olympic  gamc-s, 
our  days  dissolving  more  speedily  than  the  shadow  on 
the  wall;  the  roses  of  his  fancy  withered  at  the  thought 
of  death.  Suddenly  a  knock  is  heard  at  the  poet's  door, 


2O  Isabella  Orsini. 

accompanied  by  a  tearful  voice.    How  can  the  poet  help 
feeling  pity,  since  pity  is  one  of  the  most  harmonious 
chords  of  his  heavenly  lyre  ?    Anacreon  opens  the  door, 
and  a  child  appears,  wet  with  the  rain  and  pale  with  sor- 
row :  poor  child !  his  fine  hair  hangs  dripping  round  his 
cheeks,  his  lips  are  livid,  his  limbs  stiffened  with  cold. 
"What  evil  fortune,  my  pretty  child,  forces  thee  to 
wander  on  such  a  night,  sacred  to  the  infernal  deities  ?  " 
And  without  awaiting  a  reply,  he  presses  the  ice  from 
his  hair,  removes  his  dress,  dries  him,  and  revives  him  by 
the  heat  of  the  fire ;   nor  is  that  enough,  he  puts  the 
child's  hands  into  his  own  breast  to  warm  them  gently 
with  the  mild  heat  of  his  own  blood.     When  the  color 
returns  to  his  lip,  and  the  tremulous  light  to  his  eyes, 
the  child  smilingly  says :  "  Now  let  me  see  if  the  rain 
has  spoiled  my  bow ; "  and  fitting  an  arrow,  he  draws 
the  string.     Anacreon  is  suddenly  wounded,  before  he 
can  perceive  that  Love,  mocking,  has  left  his  house.     It 
was  the  vengeance  of  Apollo  which  caused  Myrrlia  to 
burn  with  unholy  passion  for  Cinyras ;  of  Venus,  which 
caused  the  love  of  Pasiphae  for  the  bull ;  of  Phaedra  for 
Hippolytus ;  and  the  will  of  Juno  and  Minerva  which 
caused  the  cruel  affection  of  Medea  for  Jason.     Few  or 
no  crimes  were  committed  which  were  not  attributed  to 
the  influence  of  some  god ;  and  in  this  way,  tragedians, 
availing  themselves  of  the  universal  faith  in  fate,  repre- 
sented upon  the  stage  the  horrible  deeds  that  under  dif- 
ferent aspects  would  not  have  been   tolerated.     And 
there  certainly  lives,  or  rather  there  sometimes  soem-;  to 
live  in  us,  something  more  powerful  than  ourselves;  nor 
does  our  belief,  generally  so  different  from  the  doc-trine 
of  the  ancients,  entirely  oppose  it.     Do  we  not  believe 


Guilt.  21 

that  our  first  mother  was  tempted  by  the  serpent  ?  And 
since  that  time,  the  ears  of  women  have  been  readily 
open  to  the  flatteries  of  the  tempter.  Perhaps  the 
tempter  does  not  stand  without,  but  within  the  woman, 
and  dwells  in  her  pure  blood,  in  the  fine  texture  of  her 
veins,  in  the  pores  of  her  delicate  skin,  in  her  imagina- 
tive brain,  and  in  her  more  imaginative  heart :  and  when 
thus,  the  tempter  appears  strongest  and  most  inevitable. 
But  do  women  alone  yield  to  the  persuasions  of  a  devil, 
that  comes  tempting  them,  now  with  hate,  now  with 
pleasure,  now  with  love,  now  with  the  abundance  of 
wealth,  and  (for  we  will  not  stop  to  enumerate  them  all) 
with  as  many  passions  as  are  powerful  to  stir  the  human 
heart?  Alas!  with  few  is  there  fortitude  enough  to 
withstand  pleasure  and  gold,  the  most  cruel  of  all  the 
tyrants  of  our  souls.  Renowned  heroes  of  ancient  and 
modern  history,  men  august  and  venerated,  while  life 
lasted,  either  resisted  such  passions,  or  too  often  yielded 
to  them ;  and  if  repentance  was  raised  to  the  dignity  of 
a  sacrament  among  us,  it  seems  the  most  evident  proof 
that  God  himself  never  expected  that  we  should  keep 
ourselves  innocent ;  no,  he  did  not  expect  it,  since  he 
commanded  Simon  Peter  to  forgive,  not  only  seven 
times,  but  even  seventy  times  seven. — Poor  Isabella! 
Let  him  who  is  without  sin  first  cast  a  stone  at  her.  .  .  . 

Was  she  wrong  ? 

The  first  draught  never  intoxicates,  and  whoever 
wishes,  can  put  down  the  cnp  and  say,  "  Enough  ! " 
For  that  Love,  hardly  born,  shaking  his  head  and  his 
great  bow,  enthrones  himself  king  of  the  spirit,  and  cries, 
"  I  will  it,  and  I  wish  to  reign  alone," — so  sing  the  fan- 
ciful poets, — but  this  is  not  the  truth.  Love  every  mo- 


22  Isabella  Orsini. 

ment  makes  his  wings  of  sweet  thoughts  and  ardent  de- 
sires, and  his  darts  grow  harder,  as  the  heart  at  which 
lie  aims  becomes  softened.  Delia  did  not  become  blind 
merely  by  once  looking  at  the  sun ;  and  whosoever 
wishes  to  escape  the  Sirens  must  imitate  the  example  of 
Ulysses,  and  stop  his  ears  with  wax.  We  trust  too 
much  or  too  little  to  ourselves.  When  the  flame  of  a 
glance,  or  the  allurement  of  a  voice  fascinates  us,  and 
Providence  with  an  innate  conscience  admonishes  us,  we 
take  no  heed  of  the  warning,  but  say :  "  Not  even  this 
love  shall  trespass ;  when  it  would  go  beyond  bounds, 
we  shall  be  sufficient  for  the  defence."  When  after- 
wards we  feel  it  conquering,  we  defer  the  remedy  from 
day  to  day;  at  last,  overcome,  we  accuse  the  destiny 
which  we  have  woven  with  our  own  hands.  Thus,  hav- 
ing the  power,  the  will  fails,  and  having  the  will,  the 
power  fails.  We  are  caught  in  our  own  nets.  Among 
the  laws  of  fate,  man  can  be  subjected  to  those  that  are 
outside  ;  the  others  that  are  within  him  have  no  power ; 
the  body  can  be  subdued,  not  the  soul.  And  if  God 
gives  us  a  mind  able  to  use  its  power  even  against  His 
immortal  throne,  why  or  how  can  we  accuse  Him,  if, 
like  cowards,  we  throw  down  the  shield  at  the  beginning 
of  the  battle,  or  if  we  refuse  to  use  the  sword  which  He 
has  put  into  our  hands  ?  Querulous  and  unjust  atoms, 
we  wish  the  Creator  to  break  through  the  eternal  order 
of  things,  and  to  bend  down  every  moment  from  the 
heavens  to  repair  our  faults,  and  to  quiet  the  tempest  of 
the  heart  which  we  have  excited.  He,  the  Creator,  who 
whirls  through  infinite  space  the  fragments  of  shattered 
orbs,  and  wakes  in  its  dreadful  sublimity  the  tempest  of 
the  ocean !  Even  guilt  knows  a  kind  of  dignity  ;  let  us 


Guilt.  23 

dare  to  possess  it.  Lucifer,  exiled  from  celestial  thrones, 
accused  no  one,  nor  did  he  reproach  himself  with  his 
want  of  success ;  and  Lucifer,  in  his  dark  grandeur,  ap- 
pears such,  that  although  we  cannot  wish  him  a  better 
destiny,  yet  we  cannot  abstain  from  cursing  the  ill- 
omened  moment  in  which  he  drew  down  upon  his  head 
the  wrath  of  God.  But  we  are  far  inferior  either  in 
good  or  evil  to  angelic  natures.  In  order  to  persuade 
ourselves  that  we  are  worth  something,  we  presume  to 
do  ourselves  the  honor  of  believing  that  Satan  has 
tempted  us.  If  Satan  could  turn  upon  us  his  fiery 
glances,  he  would  not  tempt,  but  laugh  at  us.  Can 
there  be  a  worse  tempter  than  our  own  evil  inclinations, 
and  the  full  power  of  our  will  in  nursing  and  fostering 
them  ?  I  certainly  do  not  wish  to  take  away  or  to  di- 
minish the  compassion  of  men,  or  the  mercy  of  God  for 
the  poor  soul  of  Isabella,  but  only  to  prove  that  the 
miserable  death  to  which  she  was  brought  was  the  just 
recompense  of  her  merits,  or  rather  her  demerits. 

While  Isabella  was  uttering  the  strange  prayer  which 
is  partly  given  above,  a  knight  of  haughty  aspect  and 
bold  presence  advanced  from  the  other  end  of  the  hall, 
and  stood  listening  to  her  words ;  then  softly  approach- 
ing, said,  "  Isabella ! " 

The  woman  started  at  this  sudden*  voice,  her  face  grew 
paler,  her  lips  moved  without  making  a  sound,  her  heavy 
eyelids  fell,  whilst  the  swelling  of  the  veins  produced  a 
dark  shade  around  her  eyes.  She  would  have  fallen  had 
not  the  knight  hastened  to  support  her.  After  a  short 
silence  he  spoke : 

"  Isabella,  you  have  something  on  your  heart  which 
you  desire  to  conceal  from  me.  Why  is  this,  Isabella  ? 


24  Isabella  Orsini. 

Am  I  then  so  poor  a  friend  that  you  do  not  deem  me 
worthy  to  share  your  innocent  secrets  ?  Or  do  you  be- 
lieve me  so  eager  for  my  own  happiness,  that  I  know  not 
how  to  prefer,  although  with  intense  anguish,  your  peace 
and  wishes  to  my  own  ?  Speak :  I  am  ready  to  do  any- 
thing for  your  love — give  me  but  a  word.  Ah,  misera- 
ble me !  What  need  is  there,  Isabella,  for  you  to  speak  ? 
I  have  heard  too  much.  Do  you  not  believe  in  my 
courage  ?  Let  me  prove  it  to  you.  You  pray  for  my 
death,  and  I  can,  yes,  I  will  unite  my  petition  to  yours ; 
I  will  recall  to  my  lips  the  sweetest  prayer  that  my 
mother  ever  taught  me.  Isabella,  kneel ;  I,  you  see,  am 
kneeling." 

And  she,  hardly  knowing  what  she  did,  knelt ;  and 
both  prayed. 

These  were  no  pure  and  peaceful  prayers,  such  as 
ascend  to  Heaven  like  incense  from  innocent  hearts, 
which  the  angels  love  to  bear  on  their  shining  wings  to 
the  throne  of  the  Eternal,  received  by  God  as  celestial 
guests,  and  consoled,  as  if  they  were  the  troubled  sons 
of  His  love.  These  prayers  mounted  from  panting 
bosoms,  disconnected  and  hurried,  like  delirious  thrills 
of  pleasure ;  they  were  wafted  through  the  air,  thick, 
like  clouds  arising  from  dark  earthly  sources ;  nor  did 
they  reach  the  threshold  of  Heaven,  but  fell  repulsed, 
like  the  smoke  from  the  offering  of  the  first  murderer, 
to  increase  the  passion  of  the  guilty  ones. 

It  was  right ;  for  these  prayers  did  not  come  sin- 
cerely from  the  heart,  for  he  who  offered  them  feared 
lest  they  might  be  heard,  and  scarcely  were  they  spoken, 
ere  he  would  have  wished  to  revoke  them.  Oh,  mortal 
mind,  how  unstable  in  the  desire  of  good !  Then  the 


Guilt.  25 

glowing  cheeks  touched,  the  convulsed  hands  sought 
and  clasped  each  other,  and  the  prayers  ended  in  oaths 
to  love  each  other  for  ever,  in  spite  of  sacred  bonds,  of 
family  honor,  of  death,  or  hell.  Indeed,  so  regardless 
of  them  were  they,  that  they  caUed  as  a  witness  to  the 
wicked  vow,  our  divine  Mother,  to  whom  they  had 
intended  to  pray  for  safety  ;  and  the  Mother  of  Mercy 
did  not  turn  aside  her  face,  convinced  that  if  their 
prayers  were  then  false,  in  the  day  of  repentance  she 
must  listen,  when  they  would  be  only  too  sincere. 

Meanwhile  justice  registered  the  guilt  in  that  book, 
where  nothing  is  cancelled,  except  by  blood. 

2 


CHAPTER  H. 


LOVE. 


E  bevea  da'  suoi  lumi 

Un'  estranea  dolcezza, 

Che  lasciava  nel  fine 

Un  non  so  che  di  amaro. 

Sospirava  sovente,  e  non  sapeva 

La  cagion  dei  sospiri. 

Cosi  fui  prirna  amante,  che  intendessi 

Che  cosa  fosse  amore  : 

Ben  me  ne  accorsi  alflu 

TABSO. 


And  from  his  eyes  I  drank 

A  sweetness  strange  and  new, 
But  In  the  end,  alas  I  I  found 

That  draught  was  bitter  too. 
1  sighed,  and  knew  not  why; — 

I  loved,  and  knew  it  not : — 
JJut  ah  1  too  soon  that  knowledge  came 

By  sad  experience  brought.  .  .  . 


SIR  ANTON  FRANCESCO  TORELLI  was  of  one  of  the 
best  families  of  the  territory  of  Fermo  ; — endowed  with 
the  gifts  of  fortune,  honored  by  his  relations,  respected 
by  strangers,  blessed  with  a  lovely  wife,  and  a  son,  in 
whom  centred  all  the  hopes  of  his  declining  years. 

Happy  would  he  have  been  if  he  had  believed  what  is 
only  too  true,  that  the  best  instruction  that  children  can 
receive,  must  be  derived  from  the  good  examples  of 


Love.  27 

their  parents :  happy,  if  he  had  never  sent  from  his 
home,  his  dear  son  Lelio  !  for  his  last  steps  towards  the 
tomb  would  not  have  been  embittered  by  sorrow.  But, 
complying  with  the  fashion  of  the  times,  he  desired  his 
son  to  be  skilled  in  chivalric  exercises,  and  the  father's 
heart  exulted  in  the  hope  that  the  noble  ladies  of  Fermo 
might  salute  his  son  as  the  most  accomplished  and 
courteous  nobleman  of  the  land.  With  this  idea,  Sir 
Anton  Francesco,  having  himself  served  a  long  time 
with  the  Cardinal  dei  Medici  in  Rome,  thought  he  might 
easily  instal  his  son  Lelio  as  page  in  the  court  of  the 
Grand  Duke  Cosimo.  But  Cosimo  having  died  prema- 
turely, worn  out  by  the  excessive  love  of  pleasure,  Lelio, 
a  youth  of  elegant  manners  and  fine  figure,  so  pleased 
the  Lady  Isabella,  Duchess  of  Bracciano,  and  daughter 
of  Cosimo,  that  she  obtained  the  handsome  page  for  her 
own  service. 

In  those  times,  noblemen  serving  at  court,  were 
required  to  learn  the  skilful  management  of  all  knightly 
weapons,  to  fight  with  the  sword  and  dagger,  and  even 
to  defend  themselves  unarmed  from  unexpected  attacks 
with  the  stiletto  or  poniard ;  and  there  were  some 
excellent  books  written  about  this  art,  which  served  also 
as  a  model  to  other  nations.  Nor  did  they  neglect  the 
practice  of  fire-arms,  although  that  was  not  esteemed  so 
noble  an  accomplishment ;  the  management  of  horses 
they  deemed  indispensable,  either  in  racing,  tilting,  or 
(more  difficult  still)  curvetting  before  the  ladies,  then 
nice  judges  of  such  arts.  Next  in  importance  came 
dexterity  in  field-sports,  among  which  stood  foremost 
that  of  hawking,  now  fallen  into  disuse,  or  only  kept  up 
in  Holland.  To  tell  the  truth,  the  knights  made  a  show 


28  Isabella  Orsini. 

of  admiring  belles-lettres,  but  not  the  severer  produc- 
tions of  the  pen,  nor  those  which  spring  new  and  vivid 
from  the  imagination  warmed  by  the  heart,  but  rather 
those  arranged  according  to  accepted  formulas,  and 
mutilated  in  usum  Delphini ;  which  composed  the 
delights  of  the  courtiers  whom  experience  or  fear  had 
taught  to  touch  carefully  such  dangerous  matters.  Jus- 
tice, however,  forbids  us  to  let  pass  unnoticed  some 
writer,  who,  kindled  by  the  last  panting  breath  of  the 
Republic,  dared  to  write,  if  not  powerfully,  at  least  con- 
scientiously ;  but  the  last  breath  soon  expires,  the  writer 
became  silent,  and  boAved  his  head  to  fate.  There  were 
others,  who  wrote  the  truth,  but  dared  not  publish  it, 
as  if  they  had  wished  to  constitute  their  remote  descend- 
ants the  heirs  of  their  revenge ;  and,  as  it  seems,  the 
descendants  opened  the  will,  but  reading  what  the  inhe- 
ritance was,  thought  best  to  refuse  the  legacy.  The 
arts  and  sciences,  however,  were  better  received,  parti- 
cularly chemistry,  for  the  purpose  of  making  poisons,  of 
which  the  men  of  those  times,  and  the  Medicis  in  parti- 
cular, became  very  skilful  manufacturers,  and  by  what 
we  read  about  it,  we  see  that  modem  researches  fall  far 
short  of  ancient  toxicology.  Michael  Angelo,  immortal 
monument  of  human  dignity,  and  eternal  witness  to  the 
truth,  that  man  was  created  in  the  image  of  God,  when 
he  no  longer  had  a  country,  consecrated  himself  entirely 
to  Heaven,  and  was  replaced  by  Benvenuto  Cellini,  a 
man  of  great  genius,  but  wholly  without  heart,  who 
wasted  his  talents  in  working  girdles,  jewels,  vases, 
plates,  and  similar  superfluities  of  luxury ;  so  that  when 
he  undertook  the  statue  of  Perseus,  he  was  no  longer 
able  to  raise  to  lofty  conceptions  his  mind  so  long  accus- 


Love.  29 

tomed  to  female  ornaments,  whereupon  Alfonzo  del  Pazzi 
stung  him  with  the  bitter  epigram : — 

"  With  the  trunk  of  a  giant,  the  limbs  of  a  lady, 
I  rate  your  fair  Perseus  at  one  maravedi."* 

But  to  return  to  Lelio  Torelli;  he  had  succeeded 
wonderfully  in  all  the  exercises  that  require  strength 
and  suppleness  of  limb.  As  to  that  discipline  which  is 
requisite  to  enlighten  the  intellect,  either  he  had  not 
given  his  mind  to  it,  or  had  not  been  able  to  attain  it ; 
nor  did  he  take  pleasure  in  music,  singing,  or  dancing ; 
his  glances  rested  upon  a  group  of  pretty  women  with 
less  interest  than  upon  a  bunch  of  roses,  and  infinitely 
less  than  that  with  which  he  hunted  the  wild  boar  over 
hill  and  dale.  No  one  more  ready  than  he  to  leap  with 
one  bound  into  the  saddle ;  no  one  more  unerring  in 
hurling  a  dart  or  firing  a  shot ;  and  not  to  describe  too 
minutely,  he  not  only  easily  surpassed  in  prowess  all  his 
companions,  but  scarcely  could  there  be  found  among 
the  elder  knights  one  to  excel  him. 

Therefore  he  was  more  eager  for  affrays  and  disputes 
than  was  becoming  in  a  noble  youth,  thus  exhibiting  a 
fierceness  of  disposition ;  and  whenever  by  superior 
force  or  adroitness  he  overcame  his  opponent,  deaf  to 
the  gentle  tones  of  pity  or  pardon,  he  was  not  easily 
restrained  from  striking,  until  weariness  or  the  interpo- 
sition of  bystanders  arrested  his  hand.  Then  rancor 
took  possession  of  him ;  and  woe  if  he  should  one  day 

*  Corpo  gigante,  e  gambe  di  fanciulla 
Ha  il  nuovo  Perseo :  sicche  tutto  insieme 
Ti  puo  bello  parer,  ma  non  val  nulla. 


30  Isabella  Orsini. 

have  a  chance  to  give  vent  to  the  vengeance  treasured 
up  in  the  depths  of  his  soul !  His  enemies  would  cer- 
tainly have  done  well  to  put,  as  the  saying  goes,  the 
extreme  unction  in  their  pockets.  As  to  the  rest  of  his 
character,  he  was  as  strong  hi  love  as  in  hate,  and 
always  foremost  hi  exposing  himself  to  danger,  even 
desiring  to  meet  it  alone,  so  that  his  friends  had  to 
restrain  him.  This  he  did  neither  to  win  praise  nor  to 
excite  gratitude,  for  he  despised  and  even  spurned 
both,  but  through  a  natural  generosity  and  even  a 
certain  feeling  of  superiority  over  his  companions,  and 
this  superiority  it  was  easier  for  them  to  envy  than 
to  counteract.  Feared  rather  than  loved,  respected 
rather  than  followed,  he  seemed  most  worthy  of 
authority. 

It  one  day  happened  that  Lady  Isabella  having  sum- 
moned huii  in  great  haste,  he  had  scarcely  time"  to  free 
himself  from  the  hands  of  his  antagonist,  and  appeared 
before  her  stained  with  blood.  The  noble  lady  seeing 
him  in  this  condition,  exclaimed  in  an  angry  voice : 
"  Go  from  my  sight,  you  make  me  shudder !" 
From  that  day,  Lelio  seemed  no  longer  the  same ; 
instead  of  wreaking  vengeance  on  any  one  who  taunted 
him,  as  he  would  once  have  done,  he  now  bit  his  lips, 
colored  to  the  very  roots  of  his  hair,  checked  himself  by 
violent  effort,  and  met  the  sarcasm  with  a  pleasant 
smile.  He  was  more  orderly  hi  his  person  than  before, 
and  paid  more  attention  to  his  luxuriant  fair  hair,  and 
the  neatness  of  his  dress ;  but  his  once  florid  complexion 
had  now  become  pale,  his  air  pensive,  his  blue  eyes 
sunken.  And  this  was  not  all.  Lelio  would  often 
stand  apart  from  his  companions,  sad  and  silent,  looking 


Love.  31 

either  at  a  flower,  a  falcon  circling  through  the  air,  or  a 
little  cloud  that  undulated  through  the  blue  ether  as  if 
the  loving  zephyrs  were  contending  for  it ;  but  he  was 
oftenest  to  be  seen  in  the  evening,  upon  the  brow  of  a 
hill,  with  both  hands  clasped  upon  his  knees,  gazing 
intently  at  the  setting  sun,  and  the  gold,  purple,  and 
rich  colors  of  mother-of-pearl,  and  the  rainbow  hues 
with  which  the  glorious  Father  of  Life  surrounds  his 
temporary  tomb.  He  scarcely  heeded  his  Spanish 
jennet,  which  strove  in  vain  to  rouse  his  inert  master 
with  his  neighs ;  vainly,  too,  did  his  greyhound  run 
before  him,  crouch  for  an  instant,  turn  back  to  him,  fly 
on  again,  bark,  gaze,  lick  his  hands  and  leap  upon  him ; 
Lelio  by  voice  and  signs  would  gently  endeavor  to 
quiet  him,  so  that  the  poor  annual,  seeing  all  his  at- 
tempts useless,  with  drooping  ears  and  tail  would 
quietly  crouch  at  his  master's  feet ;  nor  did  his  weapons 
meet  with  any  better  fate,  although  sometimes  he  would 
seize  them  as  if  moved  by  a  sudden  impulse,  and  would 
exercise  so  violently  with  them  as  to  bathe  himself 
in  perspiration,  and  exhaust  his  strength  for  several 
days. 

Lady  Isabella  possessed  a  little  volume  of  Petrarch's 
poems  which  always  accompanied  her  in  her  solitary 
walks ;  this  book  disappeared,  for  Lelio  had  appro- 
priated it  to  himself  and  was  never  tired  of  reading 
in  it. 

How  had  the  youth  become  so  changed  ?  One  day 
while  absorbed  in  this  book,  and  straying  at  random 
through  the  woody  paths  of  Cerreto,  some  laughing 
country  girls  waited  for  him  at  the  extremity  of  one  of 
the  walks,  hidden  behind  some  oaks,  and  threw  hand- 


- 

32  Isabella  Orsini. 

fuls  of  violets  in  his  face,  saying  in  jesting  tones  ;  "  Such 
eyes  were  not  made  to  be  dimmed  by  poring  over 
books,  but  to  laugh  and  make  love."  And  a  gay  old 
fanner,  who  passed  by  carrying  upon  his  head  a  basket 
of  grapes,  laughing  still  louder,  cried :  "  Ah,  indeed ! 
you  do  not  know  much  about  it ;  do  you  not  see  how 
dead  in  love  he  is  ?  The  end  of  the  world  must  be 
coming,  if  our  young  girls  do  not  know  what  love  is." 

And  when,  on  calm  evenings,  the  windows  of  the  hall 
being  open,  the  Lady  Isabella  poured  forth  a  flood  of 
harmony  through  the  dark  air,  singing  and  playing 
songs  and  melodies,  perhaps  already  composed,  or, 
abandoning  herself  to  the  inspiration  that  moved  her, 
improvising  the  verses  and  setting  them  to  music; 
Lelio  would  stand  motionless,  leaning  against  a  tree  or 
the  pedestal  of  a  statue  in  the  garden,  inhaling  a  fatal 
enchantment,  rendered  more  intoxicating  by  the  atmo- 
sphere, the  hour,  the  odorous  emanations  which  the 
dewy  herbs  and  flowers  sent  forth,  and  the  sweet  light 
which  fell  from  the  starry  heavens ;  and  when  the 
windows  were  closed,  the  lamps  lighted,  and  all  animate 
creation  resigned  itself  to  that  repose  to  which  nature 
invites  it,  this  solitary  yoxith  was  still  so  absorbed  in 
ecstasy,  that  he  alone  remained  forgetful  of  ever)  tiling, 
standing  in  the  same  place,  until  the  first  rays  of  the 
rising  sun  shining  in  his  eyes  recalled  him  to  the  accus- 
tomed duties  of  life. 

Before  continuing  the  recital  of  this  love,  I  must 
explain  what  I  have  alluded  to  above.  I  wish  to  have  it 
understood  that  I  have  made  use  of  no  poet's  license, 
but  that  it  is  an  historical  fact,  that  Isabella,  Duchess  of 
Bracciano,  was  not  only  an  authoress,  a  poetess,  and  a 


Love.  33 

composer,  but  also  an  improvisatrice.  Nor  was  this  the 
only  talent  of  this  celebrated  woman,  for  besides  her 
native  tongue,  she  spoke  and  wrote  fluently  in  Latin, 
French,  and  Spanish ;  in  the  art  of  drawing  she  rivalled 
the  most  celebrated  masters,  and  in  every  accomplish- 
ment that  belonged  to  her  high  station,  and  in  eveiy 
lady-like  elegance  and  refinement,  she  was  so  perfect  as 
to  be  rightly  esteemed  rather  wonderful  than  rare.  All 
the  chronicles  which  I  have  seen,  which  speak  of  this 
unfortunate  Princess,  agree  in  using  the  following  words : 
"  It  is  sufficient  to  say  that  she  was  esteemed  by  all,  both 
far  and  near,  as  a.  perfect  ark  of  learning  and  science, 
and  the  people  loved  her  for  those  great  qualities,  and 
her  father  felt  for  her  a  most  passionate  tenderness." 
Blessed  might  she  have  been,  could  she  have  used  such 
rich  gifts  of  nature  and  high  cultivation  to  render  her 
life  happy  and  her  memory  immortal ! 

Lelio,  whenever  it  was  possible,  would  enter  the  room 
of  the  Lady  Isabella,  and  there,  sure  that  he  was  unob- 
served, would  take  the  instrument  over  which  the  fin- 
gers of  his  mistress  had  swiftly  flown,  and  would  kiss  it 
madly,  press  it  to  his  heart  and  brow,  and  bathe  it  with 
tears  ;  and  if  he  could  find  some  paper  upon  which  the 
Lady  Isabella  had  been  writing,  he  would  read  the  lines 
over  and  over  again,  and  try  to  compose  some  himself; 
but  although  his  soul  overflowed  with  poetry,  the  power 
adequately  to  express  such  overwhelming  emotion  was 
wanting ;  nor,  perhaps,  could  even  long  study  have 
enabled  him  to  do  justice  to  it.  He  would  then  be 
enraged  with  himself,  rave,  and  finally  end  by  blotting 
out  with  his  tears  what  he  had  written  with  the  ink.  At 
last  even  this  comfort,  if  we  may  call  it  one,  was  denied 

2* 


34  Isabella  Orsini. 

him.  The  Lady  Isabella  finding  her  spotless  papers 
soiled,  and  being  unable  to  discover  the  culprit,  from 
that  time  forward  carefully  removed  them. 

But  in  truth,  except  for  this  waste  of  paper,  Lady  Isa- 
bella could  not  wish  for  a  more  assiduous  and  diligent 
page  than  Lelio.  By  the  expression  of  her  face,  so  much 
had  he  gazed  upon  it,  he  had  learned  to  read  the  inmost 
secrets  of  her  soul,  nor  did  he  need  any  further  indica- 
tion of  her  wishes  to  execute  them.  This  assiduity 
increased  to  such  a  degree  as  to  be  somewhat  trouble- 
some, especially  when  Lady  Isabella  was  conversing 
with  Sir  Troilo — for  then  he  would  invent  a  thousand 
excuses  to  enter  unsummoned  into  her  room,  or  not  to 
leave  it  when  there.  As  it  rarely  happens  that  two 
beings  who  hate,  or  wish  to  injure  each  other,  however 
much  they  may  endeavor  to  conceal  their  feelings,  do 
not  by  some  means  or  other  finally  reveal  them,  so  the 
glances  of  Troilo  and  Lelio  met,  clashing  like  two  ene- 
mies' swords,  and  the  more  Troilo  persisted  in  looking 
sternly  at  Lelio,  to  make  him,  either  through  respect  or 
fear,  cast  down  his  eyes,  the  more  steadily  would  Lelio 
fix  them  upon  him  with  an  indescribable  expression  of 
rage.  The  few  words  which  they  exchanged  always 
contained  some  biting  sarcasm ;  bitter  were  the  tones  of 
their  voices;  bitter  their  actions,  their  bearing,  their 
gestures. 

Lelio,  one  day  stealing,  according  to  his  custom,  into 
Lady  Isabella's  room,  took  her  lute  hi  his  hand,  and 
making  a  pretence  of  playing  it,  began  to  sing  a  ballad 
that  was  a  favorite  of  his  mistress.  He  did  not  attempt 
to  pour  forth  the  full  power  of  his  clear  voice,  withheld 
by  respect  for  the  place,  and  because,  ignorant  of  musk-, 


Love.  35 

he  had  learned  the  song  by  ear  only,  repeating  it  who 
knows  how  many  times  ;  but  growing  excited  by  degrees, 
he  yielded  to  the  impulse  that  prompted  him,  and  rarely 
or  never  had  those  halls  resounded  with  the  echoes  of 
so  rich  a  melody.  Lady  Isabella  drew  near  unobserved, 
and  touched  by  so  much  harmony,  approached  him 
gently,  and  when  Lelio  ceased  singing,  she  placed  her 
hand  upon  his  head,  and  patting  it  playfully,  said — 

"  Who  taught  you  this,  my  fine  boy  ?" 

"  Love — a  very  great  love  that  I  have  for  music." 

"And  you  should  follow  the  dictates  of  this  love, 
since  the  cultivation  of  the  fine  arts  ennobles  the  intellect 
and  softens  the  heart." 

And  as  the  Duchess  still  kept  her  hand  upon  his  head, 
Lelio,  in  an  imploring  voice,  said  to  her — 

"  My  Lady,  for  heaven's  sake  I  beseech  you  to  take 
your  hand  from  my  head." 

"  Should  I  not  put  it  there  ?"  asked  the  Duchess  in 
tones  slightly  resentful,  and  withdrawing  it  quickly. 

"  Oh  1  my  Lady,  pity  me,  it  burns  my  brain." 

"  I  do  not  see  why  my  hand  should  perform  the  office 
of  the  tunic  of  Nessus." 

"  I  do  not  know,  but  I  feel  it."  And  the  boy  uttered 
these  words  in  so  tremulous  and  mournful  a  voice,  that 
the  Duchess  put  her  hand  to  his  forehead  and  exclaimed 
in  a  frightened  tone — 

" Dio  mio!  how  it  burns!  Poor  Lelio!  I  fear  you 
are  ill.  Ah !  you  are  fainting,  and  there  is  no  one  here 
to  help  him.  Lelio!  Lelio!  Ah!  he  will  die  in  my 
arms.  Holy  Virgin,  help  him !" 

Lelio,  his  face  as  white  as  a  waxen  image,  bathed  in  a 
cold  perspiration,  closed  his  eyes  and  leaned  his  head 


36  Isabella  Orsini. 

upon  Lady  Isabella's  bosom,  while  she  supported  him 
with  both  arms.  Recovering  himself  presently,  he 
opened  his  eyes  with  a  sigh,  perceived  where  he  was, 
and  remembering  how  it  had  happened,  and  the  reason 
of  his  fainting,  he  said  sadly, 

"  I  thought  that  I  was  dying.  Oh,  why  did  I  not 
really  die?" 

The  Duchess  took  some  scented  spirits  and  bathed  his 
temples  with  it,  although  the  youth  tried  respectfully  to 
prevent  her. 

"  Let  me,  let  me,"  said  the  Duchess.  "  I  will  be  a 
mother  to  you.  I  might  already  be  so  in  age — almost — 
and  hi  affection.  You  have  a  claim  upon  my  tender- 
ness, for  your  own  mother  is  far  distant,  and  cannot  help 
you,  poor  child.  But  what  follies  are  these  ?  Whence 
comes  this  despair?  Speak  to  me;  open  your  whole 
heart  to  me.  I  have  seen  you  change  countenance,  have 
seen  your  inward  struggles ;  and  I  have  observed  how 
your  arm  trembles  when  you  assist  me  to  mount  my 
horse.  Are  you  hi  love  ?  Thoughtless  boy,  you  should 
not  hide  it  from  me !  For  I  too  have  known  love's  trials, 
and  know  also  how  to  pity  them.  You,  so  noble,  can- 
not have  placed  your  affections  on  an  unworthy  object ; 
and  if  upon  one  above  you,  there  is  no  inequality  which 
love  cannot  level ;  and  you,  by  your  high  birth,  your 
wealth,  and  more  than  all  by  your  goodness,  are  deserv- 
ing of  an  illustrious  connexion.  If  I  have  any  influence, 
I  promise  to  exert  it  all  to  see  you  happy." 

Meanwhile  Lelio  had  regained  his  former  composure ; 
he  even,  all  sorrow  laid  aside,  appeared  smiling,  and  his 
cheeks  were  rosy  with  the  hue  of  youth,  the  springtime 
of  life. 


Love. 


37 


"Oh,  indeed,"  he  replied  with  feigned  bashfulness, 
"do  children  know  anything  about  such  things?  Are 
such  the  thoughts  of  eighteen  years  ?  What  is  love  ?  Is 
it  a  fruit,  a  sword,  or  a  falcon  ?  I  have  always  heard  it 
said  that  youths  grow  thin,  but  that  afterwards  they  be- 
come more  vigorous  than  before.  My  lady,  I  feel  so 
happy,  so  joyful,  that  I  can  ask  for  nothing  more ;  and 
offering  you  passionately  all  the  gratitude  in  my  power 
for  your  pity,  I  entreat  you  to  continue  the  maternal 
kindness  which  you  have  promised  me,  giving  you  my 
word  of  honor,  that  I,  for  my  part,  will  ever  strive  to 
deserve  it." 

"  I  will  do  so,  Lelio,"  said  the  Lady  Isabella,  adding, 
almost  in  spite  of  herself,  "  for  I  need,  more  than  you 
can  believe,  people  to  love  me  truly.  I,  you  see,  Lelio, 
am  miserable,  miserable  enough,  for  no  one  on  this  earth 
loves  me.  My  father  loved  me  dearly,  but  he  has  left 
me.  O  my  father,  why  did  you  leave  me  alone — without 
a  guide — abandoned  by  all?"  While  she  was  thus 
speaking,  Lelio  knelt  on  the  ground,  and  kissing  the 
hem  of  her  dress,  uttered  these  words: 

"I  make  a  sacred  vow  to  be  yours  till  death." 

The  Duchess,  who  through  necessity  and  custom  had 
learned  to  control  her  emotions,  perceiving  that  she  had 
gone  further  than  she  had  intended,  said,  in  order  to 
distract  her  own  thoughts  and  Lelio's  from  these  events 

"  Rise,  Lelio,  I  do  not  wish  the  gift  of  voice  which  I 
have  discovered  in  you  to  be  lost :  I  do  not  want  you 
to  sing  by  ear,  and  am  ready  to  teach  you  music.  If 
you  continue  to  improve  as  rapidly  as  you  have  begun, 
it  will  not  be  long  before  you  will  have  no  equal  in  the 
court  of  my  illustrious  brother  Francesco.  Let  us  take 


38  Isabella  Orsini. 

the  music  of  the  song  that  you  were  singing  just  now  ; 
I  will  show  you  the  notes,  and  the  places  where  the 
voice  must  be  elevated  and  lowered.  Signor  Giulio 
Caccini,  a  Roman  musician,  composed  it  expressly  for 
me.  The  melody  is  soft  and  sweet." 

"If  I  had  known  before,  honored  lady,  whose  compo- 
sition it  was,  I  should  have  taken  care  not  to  learn  it  by 
heart,  much  less  to  sing  it." 

"  Why  so,  Lelio  ?  Have  you  unfriendly  feelings  to- 
wards Signor  Giulio  ?  " 

"  I  have  never  exchanged  a  word  with  him ;  but  his 
face  has  such  a  bad  expression ;  he  looks  to  me  as  if  he 
had  the  whole  sect  of  the  Pharisees  in  his  heart." 

"  It  seems  just  the  contrary  to  me.  He  is  gracious 
and  kind  to  all,  speaks  gently,  and  smiles  sweetly.  I 
could  confess " 

"  And  I  regard  him  as  the  most  consummate  traitor 
that  has  ever  been  since  Judas.  Mark  but  his  smile ;  it 
does  not  seem  to  be  his  own ;  I  believe  he  begged  it 
from  some  second-hand  dealer.  In  his  small  velvety 
hands,  do  you  not  see  the  cat's  paw  in  which  the  claws 
are  sheathed  ?  He  preaches  charity  and  neighborly  love 
to  all,  it  is  true,  but  he  does  it  for  his  OAvn  sake ;  for  he 
does  not  find  it  for  his  interest  to  encourage  people  to 
scrutinize  too  closely,  and  to  discover  by  rigid  examina- 
tion the  characters  of  others." 

Lady  Isabella  said,  smilingly,  "Beware,  Lelio;  judge 
not,  that  you  be  not  judged." 

"  Those  are  holy  words,  that  must  be  understood  lite- 
rally, since  otherwise  it  would  be  necessary  to  renounce 
both  experience  and  life.  And,  therefore,  I  may  judge, 
since  I  do  not  fear  to  be  judged." 


Love.  39 

Lelio  was  right,  and  a  deed  of  blood  is  proof  of  it. 

The  chronicles  relate  that  Captain  degli  Antinori  hav- 
ing to  carry  to  Eleonora  di  Toledo,  wife  of  Piero  dei 
Medici,  a  love-letter  from  the  knight  Antonio,  his 
brother,  then  imprisoned  on  account  of  that  very  love 
at  Porto  Ferrai,  took  advantage  of  the  opportunity  of 
Don  Piero's  going  out  with  his  retinue,  entered  quickly 
the  Palazzo  Vecchio,  went  up  to  the  apartments  of  the 
Lady  Eleonora,  who  then  occupied  the  frescoed  rooms 
that  look  out  upon  the  Piazza  del  Grano,  and  imme- 
diately asked  an  audience  of  the  porter;  but  he  had 
absolute  orders  not  to  let  a  single  person  pass,  for  his 
lady  was  dressing.  In  vain  did  the  Captain  insist  that 
his  business  was  most  urgent — that  those  orders  were 
not  to  be  regarded — that  he  should  let  him  pass,  or  at 
least  apprise  the  lady  of  his  presence.  The  porter,  born 
and  educated  at  Innspruck,  would  not  listen  to  his  argu- 
ments ;  his  lady  had  given  orders  that  for  an  hour  he 
should  give  ingress  to  no  one,  and  until  the  sixty 
minutes  were  expired,  no  one  should  pass.  There  was 
no  remedy ;  the  Captain  began  to  walk  up  and  down  the 
antechamber  in  a  passion,  but  soon  becoming  weary  of 
oscillating  backwards  and  forwards  like  the  pendulum 
of  a  clock,  he  saw  that  the  amiable  Caccini  was  also 
waiting  for  an  audience.  Exchanging  a  few  words  of 
courtesy  with  him,  and  finding  him  apparently  all  kind- 
ness, particularly  towards  the  Lady  Eleonora,  Avhom, 
with  an  air  of  tenderness,  and  with  eyes  full  of  tears,  he 
called  his  adored  and  virtuous  patron,  he  incautiously 
intrusted  him  witli  the  letter,  begging  him,  for  the  love 
of  Heaven,  to  take  care  and  let  no  one  see  it,  and  to  give 
it  with  his  own  hands  to  the  Lady  Eleonora.  Scarcely 


4<3  Isabella  Orstni. 

had  the  Captain  turned  his  back,  when  the  musician 
concealed  himself  in  the  embrasure  of  a  window,  and 
treacherously  opening  the  letter,  learned  from  it  the 
truth  of  what  was  generally  suspected — that  is  to  say, 
the  intrigue  of  the  knight  with  the  Princess ;  wherefore, 
in  the  hope  of  a  great  reward,  he  went  directly  to  the 
Grand  Duke,  and  first,  humbly  craving  pardon  for  hav- 
ing opened  the  letter,  excusing  himself  by  affirming  that 
he  had  done  so  out  of  the  great  love  he  bore  to  the 
dignity  of  his  gracious  and  noble  lord  and  master,  he 
placed  it  in  his  hands.  The  Grand  Duke  changed  coun- 
tenance while  reading  it,  but  having  finished,  with  appa- 
rent tranquillity,  he  refolded  it  leisurely,  and  putting  it 
into  his  bosom,  said,  in  a  serious  voice,  as  was  his  cus- 
tom— for  rumor  says  he  spoke  briefly  : 

"  Musician,  I  see  here  four  guilty  persons — the  knight 
Antinori,  who  wrote  this  letter,  Captain  Antinori,  who 
brought  it,  Eleonora,  who  was  to  receive  it,  and  you,  who 
opened  it ;  go — each  one  shall  be  rewarded  according  to 
his  deserts." 

Isabella,  a  woman  of  singular  excellence  of  disposition, 
rendered,  by  the  unfortunate  circumstances  of  her  lite, 
unhappy,  but  not  suspicious,  added  quickly : 

"Any  one  who  loves  me,  must  dismiss  such  wrong 
and  unreasonable  prejudices;  in  my  opinion  they  are 
unworthy  and  unjust,  and  generally  give  evidence  of  an 
ill-natured  disposition.  All  have  the  right  of  being 
judged  according  to  their  works.  Be  careful,  my  dear 
Lilio,  always  to  have  a  clear  conscience,  and  life  will 
seem  less  burdensome  to  you  than  to  the  other  children 
of  Adam.  Come,  now,  and  learn  the  song  of  this  brave 
Roman.  How  can  you  believe  that  a  man  capable  of 


Love.  41 

composing  so  sweet  a  melody,  could  have  a  bad 
heart?" 

Thus  does  man  judge ! 

The  Duchess,  taking  the  sheet  of  music  in  her  hand, 
commanded  Lelio,  who  obeyed  not  unwillingly,  to  sit 
by  her  side,  and  began  to  teach  him  where  the  voice 
should  rest,  and  how  and  where  it  should  glide  at 
length,  or  quaver  in  melodious  trills ;  hi  short,  all  the 
tastes  of  an  accomplished  musician.  But  Lelio  paid 
more  attention  to  the  white  hands  than  to  the  notes, 
and  still  more  to  the  lovely  face  that  grew  animated 
over  the  music ;  wrapt  in  a  kind  of  ecstasy,  he  not  only 
ceased  accompanying  Lady  Isabella,  but  could  hardly 
draw  his  breath.  Lady  Isabella  said  : — "  But  keep  on." 
And  he,  uttering  with  difficulty  a  faint  note,  was  silent 
the  next  moment.  The  Lady  Isabella,  again,  "  Why  do 
you  stop  ?  "  And  thus  alternated  reproofs  and  silence. 
Lilio,  prompted  by  love,  drew  nearer  to  the  Duchess ; 
hence,  it  so  chanced  that  some  of  her  raven  ringlets, 
stirred  by  the  motion  of  her  head,  touched  his  cheek ; 
the  boy  trembled  in  every  limb,  bis  eyes,  suffused  with 
tears,  shone  with  a  wild  light,  his  dry  lips  burned ;  it 
seemed  joy,  but  it  was  really  pain.  The  cheek  touched 
by  the  hair  became  red,  as  if  burning  metal  had  been 
applied  to  it,  and  the  page  could  scarcely  bear  the  keen 
and  tremulous  passion  that  agitated  him ;  but  recover- 
ing himself,  he  would  again  return  to  the  trial,  as  we 
see  the  moth,  led  by  fatal  instinct,  flutter  round  the 
flame  that  consumes  him.  Thus,  not  heeding  the  mimites 
that  sped,  the  personages  of  our  history  remained  a  long 
time,  until  the  Duchess,  casually  raising  her  eyes,  saw 
standing  before  her  Sir  Troilo  Orsini. 


42  Isabella  Orsini. 

Troilo  of  the  pallid  brow !  His  eyes  sparkled  beneath 
his  black  and  bushy  eyebrows  like  the  jackal's,  eager  for 
prey.  He  held  his  right  hand  within  his  black  velvet 
mantle ;  his  left  hand,  on  his  side,  was  holding  his  hat 
ornamented  with  black  plumes ;  and  so  motionless  was 
he,  that  one  might  have  believed  him  a  statue.  Isabella 
encountered  his  malignant  gaze  without  the  slightest  em- 
barrassment, and  paying  no  attention  to  it,  said  frankly : 

"  Welcome,  Sir  Troilo,  and  share  my  happiness,  for  I 
have  discovered  a  new  virtue  in  my  page ;  he  sings  like 
an  angel,  and  I  intend  to  cultivate  his  voice  till  he  is 
perfect ;  then,  when  he  returns  home,  it  will  please  his 
mother,  and  he  will  be  the  favorite  of  the  ladies  of  Fermo." 

Sir  Troilo  replied : 

"  You  would  repeat  the  injustice  of  Americus  Ves- 
pucius,  since  I  discovered  before  you  did,  that  this 
youth,  with  proper  instruction,  might  become  a  won- 
derful musician." 

Lelio  felt  the  keen  satire,  and  his  face  burned,  but  he 
was  silent. 

"  Your  ladyship,"  continued  Sir  Troilo,  "  I  must  now 
speak  to  you  of  something  more  important ;  please  to 
listen  to  me. — Page,  take  these,  and  put  them  in  my 
room,  and  be  careful  not  to  come  back  again  until  you 
are  called." 

"  Save  your  honor,  Sir  Troilo,  I  am  here  in  the  ser- 
vice of  her  Ladyship  the  Duchess ;  and  unless  she  be 
pleased  to  command  otherwise,  I  beg  of  you  to  take  it  in 
courtesy,  if  I  do  not  go." 

This  time  it  was  Troilo  who  colored ;  and  already 
some  cutting  reply  quivered  on  his  lip,  when  the  Lady 
Isabella  hastily  interposed,  saying  : 


Love.  43 

"  Lelio,  obey  Sir  Troilo." 

Lelio  took  the  sword,  gloves,  and  hat,  and  bowing 
low,  walked  slowly  towards  the  door. 

"  Page ! "  cried  Orsini  after  him,  "  carry  my  sword 
with  both  hands ;  it  is  heavy,  and  you  may  drop  it." 

Lelio  drew  the  gleaming  sword  like  lightning  from 
its  scabbard,  and  brandishing  it  swiftly  around  his  head, 
replied  with  a  bold  voice,  and  without  stopping : 

"  Xever  fear,  Sir  Troilo,  for  my  heart  and  hand  are 
strong  enoiigh  to  wield  it  as  a  gentleman  against  any 
honorable  knight.  You  understand ;  against  any  knight." 

If  he  added  any  other  words,  they  were  not  heard,  as 
he  was  so  distant. 

"  See,"  said  Sir  Troilo,  spitefully,  closing  the  door  of 
the  hall,  "  see  how  your  indiscreet  mildness  raises 
around  you  a  troop  of  insolent  fellows." 

"  I  have  not  observed  any  insolent  ones,  although  I 
have  an  ungrateful  one,  Sir  Troilo." 

And,  seated  side  by  side,  they  began  to  converse  in 
low,  but  excited  tones,  and,  to  judge  by  their  gestures 
and  manner,  it  could  be  neither  pleasure,  kindness,  nor 
any  other  tender  feeling,  that  influenced  this  conversa- 
tion, but  reproofs,  suspicions,  and  fears ;  the  Omnipotent 
having  ordained,  in  His  eternal  decrees,  that  man,  for  his 
sins,  should  never  be  perfectly  happy. 

Now  my  readers,  especially  my  lady  readers,  must 
understand  that  three  full  years  had  elapsed  since  the 
day  that  Isabella  and  Troilo  had  sworn  the  eternity  of 
an  affection  that  never  should  have  commenced;  and 
three  years  is  a  long  eternity  in  love  affairs.  Eternity ! 
Fancy  a  word  so  unsuitable  to  the  lips  of  man,  still  less 
to  those  of  woman.  Love  engagements  usually  begin 


44  Isabella  Orsini. 

on  two  sides  and  end  on  one.  It  is  the  best  plan,  though 
one  but  rarely  put  into  execution,  to  annul  them  at  a 
fixed  time  by  mutual  consent.  Contracts  of  love  have 
not  the  same  advantages  as  those  of  business.  In  the 
latter,  before  making  such  a  contract,  the  person  inte- 
rested wishes  to  understand  the  exchanges,  the  pur- 
chases, the  location,  and  the  like,  and  the  advantages 
accruing  to  him  in  the  value,  the  expenses,  and  the 
accessories,  like  one  accustomed  to  be  mindful  of  his  own 
interests  in  such  affairs ;  but  in  the  former  he  bargains 
and  binds  himself  blindfold,  awaiting  the  consummation 
before  he  reckons  and  judges  how  much  he  has  gained 
by  it.  And  this  sad  day  of  reckoning  had  come  and 
passed  for  Isabella  and  Troilo,  and  by  this  time  who 
knows  how  often  they  had  summed  it  up  !  The  truth  of 
this  history  obliges  us  to  confess  that  the  lady  had  found 
herself  at  a  great  disadvantage,  which  fact  contributed 
in  no  small  degree  to  alienate  the  lovers.  Indeed  Isa- 
bella possessed  an  ardent  love  for  true  art,  and  for  the 
pleasures  of  science ;  an  apt  and  happy  talent,  and  a 
very  great  enthusiasm ;  great  kindness  of  disposition, 
sympathetic  feelings,  noble  manners,  lady-like  elegance, 
and  a  courtesy  truly  regal.  The  sentiment  of  love  re- 
mains. I  cannot  say  that  the  power  of  loving  Avas  want- 
ing in  her,  for  it  would  not  be  true ;  but  she  was  deceived, 
believing  that  that  was  an  unconquerable  necessity  of 
the  heart,  which  was  merely  an  impulse  of  the  imagina- 
tion ;  and  as  there  is  nothing  more  ethereal  than  the 
fancy,  or  more  ready  to  evaporate,  she  often  not  only 
wondered,  but  was  terrified,  to  find  herself  cold  towards 
persons  and  things  for  whom  and  which  she  had  shortly 
before  felt  an  ardent  fondness.  Happy  would  it  have 


Love.  45 

been  for  her  if  nature  or  art  had  balanced  more  equally 
her  heart  and  her  brain.  Grave  masters  and  solemn 
teachings  had  not  been  wanting ;  but  if,  when  obliged 
to  choose  between  severe  precepts  and  easy  ones,  between 
strict  teachings  and  mild  ones,  the  second  seem  the  plea- 
santer  to  follow,  it  need  not  be  asked  why  they  obtain 
the  preference.  In  her  father's  house  she  was  surrounded 
by  the  worst  examples,  and  alas !  miserable  girl !  they 
punished  in  her,  the  most  innocent  of  them  all,  the 
crimes  or  consequences  of  crimes,  of  which  her  brothers 
should  more  justly  have  borne  the  penalties.  Indeed, 
the  various  chronicles  that  I  have  examined  concur  in 
the  same  judgment,  expressed  in  the  following  manner 
by  one  of  them : — "  Every  one  said  that  a  remedy  should 
have  been  adopted  before  Prince  Francesco  and  her 
other  brothers  had  made  use  of  her  to  draw  to  their 
wishes  other  ladies  of  the  city,  carrying  her  out  with 
them  every  night  dressed  as  a  man,  and  then  pretending 
that  she  should  remain  a  saint."  Isabella,  moreover, 
possessed,  or  better  to  express  it,  was  possessed  by  what 
is  called  a  poetic  temperament — a  warm  heart  in  the 
power  of  an  ardent  imagination — like  a  bold  knight  on 
an  unbridled  horse,  a  situation  replete  with  the  saddest 
consequences. 

And  how  did  Troilo  appear  on  the  day  of  reckoning? 
Troilo  of  the  pallid  brow,  the  heavy  eyebrow,  and  the 
falcon  eye.  If  we  consider  his  figure,  few  were  the 
knights  in  Italy  who  could  sustain  any  comparison  with 
him.  He  was  well  formed  in  person,  and  of  so  hand- 
some a  face  that  artists  of  note  had  begged  him  to  sit  to 
them  as  a  model,  and  he  had  consequently  grown  very 
vain.  His  hair  was  short  and  his  face  smooth,  with  the 


46  Isabella  Orsini. 

exception  of  a  dark  imperial  and  moustache.  Having 
heard  that  Alexander  the  Great  leaned  his  head  upon 
his  right  shoulder,  Troilo,  not  to  be  inferior  to  him,  imi- 
tated the  habit.  He  always  dressed  in  black  velvet; 
was  usually  sad  and  pensive,  speaking  rarely,  not  because 
he  imagined  himself  a  poor  conversationalist,  for  he 
ranked  himself  on  the  contrary  far  above  Cicero,  but  it 
was  natural  to  him.  When  he  said  but  little,  people 
were  persuaded  that  he  was  a  man  of  remarkable  talents 
and  a  keen  observer  of  human  affairs ;  but  if  he  con- 
versed at  greater  length  the  vanity  of  his  mind  was 
clearly  manifested,  as  our  ancestors  aver  the  solidity  of 
the  vase  to  be  proved  by  sounding  it.  How  the  Fates 
had  placed  such  a  head  on  such  a  body  is  a  question  not 
easily  answered.  It  is  very  certain  that  he  would  have 
driven  to  despair  those  who  undertake  to  discover  by 
external  signs  the  passions  and  imaginations  of  the  soul. 
He  surpassed  all  the  noblemen  of  that  age  in  prowess  and 
courage.  In  the  bloody  quarrels  of  the  barons,  for 
which  the  streets  of  Rome  were  then  notorious,  he  was 
always  the  first  to  commence  and  the  last  to  retreat. 
Naturally  strong,  he  fought  with  strength,  although  trea- 
son was  the  height  of  his  ambition ;  and  his  favorite 
hero,  the  famous  Alphonso  Piccolomini,  a  celebrated 
highwayman  whom  Ferdinand  dei  Medici,  as  Cardinal, 
once  saved  from  the  gallows,  but  afterwards,  as  Grand 
Duke,  hung.  But  hi  the  battles  where  skill  rather  than 
strength  is  requisite,  or  where  the  one  should  be  tem- 
pered by  the  other,  he  showed  himself  so  incompetent 
that  he  could  not  be  trusted  with  the  rank  even  of  a 
colonel  of  infantry ;  nor  did  he  succeed  any  better  in 
business  transactions,  for  sometimes  by  his  obstinate 


Love.  47 

silence  he  inspired  suspicion,  and  sometimes  by  his  vain 
eloquence,  even  more  obstinate,  contempt.  Hence  the 
Medicis  abstained  from  employing  him,  and  kept  him  at 
home,  like  the  Bucentaur,  the  ornamented  and  useless 
galley  which  the  Venetians  used  to  bring  out  on  the 
occasion  of  the  marriage  of  the  Doge  with  the  Adriatic ; 
so  his  commissions  consisted  of  congratulations,  as  his 
three  embassies  to  France  bear  witness,  where  he  was 
sent  the  first  time  to  congratulate  the  Duke  d'Anjou 
upon  the  victory  which  he  had  gained  at  Moncontour 
over  the  Admiral  Coligny ;  the  second  was  when  Charles 
IX.  espoused  Elizabeth,  the  second  daughter  of  the 
Emperor  Maximilian ;  the  third  and  last  when  the  Duke 
d'Anjou,  afterwards  Henry  HI.,  was  chosen  King  of 
Poland.  And  yet  so  vainglorious  was  he,  that  he  never 
ceased  reminding  Isabella  of  the  many  and  great  sacri- 
fices which  he  had  made  for  her,  in  not  fighting  battles 
which  he  never  would  have  fought,  and  constantly  longed 
for  the  victories  which  he  never  could  have  achieved. 
His  love  for  Isabella  was  idleness,  the  impulse  of  youth- 
ful blood,  pride  in  conquering  a  woman  so  handsome 
and  so  deservedly  celebrated.  He  soon  grew  weary  of 
it,  since  forms,  however  beautiful,  please  by  their  vari- 
ety ;  and  the  lady's  talent,  by  humiliating  him,  was  to 
him  rather  a  cause  of  dislike  than  of  admiration.  I  will 
not  affirm  that  he  hated  Isabella,  but  he  chafed  impa- 
tiently under  the  tic,  and  even  more  impatiently  when 
he  found  that  he  could  not  free  himself  from  it,  and 
strengthened  it  irrevocably  by  a  fatal  knot.  His  mind 
was  closed  against  the  noble,  the  decorous,  the  right, 
and  the  beautiful.  If  Isabella  recited  her  own  tifcr 
another's  poetry,  he  would  fall  asleep — a  terrible  slight 


48  Isabella  Orsini. 

to  a  poet,  but  to  a  poetess  culpable  beyond  measure. 
Music  gave  him  the  headache.  With  all  this  he  was 
tormented  by  a  cold  and  apathetic  jealousy,  not  because 
he  loved  Isabella,  but  because  he  wished  Isabella  to  love 
him ; — he  wished  that  all  might  read  around  her  neck 
these  words,  which  used  to  be  engraved  upon  the  collars 
of  slaves :  "  The  property  of  Troilo  Orsini."  In  short, 
the  time  had  arrived  when  the  joyous  rosy  garland 
woven  by  love  was  changed  to  a  chain  of  remorse  and 
hate,  forged  by  the  hands  of  the  infernal  Furies. 


CHAPTER  HI. 

THE  KX1GHT   LIOXABDO   SALVIATI. 

Essendo  di  fortuna  e  <T  ingegno  meno  che  mediocre,  mi  sento  non  dimanco 
avere  dalla  natura  un  bene  particolare  ed  egregio,  nel  quale  io  mi  sento  tanto 
superiore  a  multi,  quanto  quasi  di  ogni  uomo  in  tutte  le  altre  cose  mi  conosco 
piu  basso.  Questa  e  una  cotal  mirabile  inclinazione,  ed  una  come  natural  conos- 
cenza  ch'  io  ho  nella  ainicizia  .  .  .  .  Io  sono  a  questa  parte  quasi  rapito  dallo 
Dio  del  mio  ingegno. 

SALVIATI,  Dialffyo  delF  Amiei&ia. 

Although  I  am  less  than  mediocre  both  in  fortune  and  talents,  yet  I  feel  that 
nature  has  gifted  me  with  a  particular  and  lofty  blessing,  in  which  I  feel  myself 
so  much  superior  to  others,  as  I  know  myself  in  almost  everything  else  inferior 
to  all  other  men.  This  is  a  wonderful  inclination,  and  natural  knowledge  which 
I  have  in  friendship  ....  I  feel  in  this  respect  almost  exalted  by  the  god  of 
my  genius.  .  . 

SALVIATT,    IHalogue  on  Friendship. 

As  poets  sometimes  describe  a  pensive  maiden  stray- 
ing by  the  margin  of  a  brook,  plucking  the  leaves  from 
a  rose,  scattering  them  to  the  mercy  of  the  current,  and 
watching  the  wave  that  carries  them  away,  so  Isabella, 
with  her  cheek  resting  on  her  hand,  her  eyes  closed, 
mused  upon  the  dear  remembrances  borne  down  upon 
the  stream  of  time.  Where  was  her  innocence  ?  Where 
her  youthful  affections  ?  Where  the  serene  purity 
of  her  mind  ?  The  tree  of  life,  that  once  appeared 
so  fresh  with  perpetual  verdure,  now  how  horribly 
bare!  And  the  few  leaves  that  remain,  rustle  drily, 
and  are  ready  to  fall  with  the  slightest  wind  that 

3 


50  Isabella  Orsini. 

blows.  Of  Cosimo's  daughters,  she  alone  is  left  ;  Mary 
died  at  seventeen  for  love ;  Lucretia,  perhaps  through 
the  same  cause,  disappeared  from  the  world  at  twenty- 
one.  Love  had  been  a  star  of  evil  auspice  for  the  women 
of  the  Medici  family !  The  dear  boy,  Don  Garcia,  had 
abandoned  her,  and  she  could  never  think  of  him  with- 
out her  imagination  depicting  the  angelic  face,  that  wished 
to  speak  to  her  but  could  not,  and  tried  to  sign  to  her 
with  his  head,  while  his  hair,  dripping  with  blood, 
stained  his  beautiful  face.  God  knows  how  this  thought 
pierced  her  heart!  For  the  report  of  the  domestic 
tragedy  had  reached  her  ears,  but  her  frightened  soul 
shrank  in  horror  at  believing  it  true.  Her  father, 
Cosimo,  whom,  however  severe  or  cruel  towards  his 
other  children,  she  had  found  kind,  was  still  young 
when  he  left  this  world,  and  although  in  dying  he  left 
her,  as  manifest  tokens  of  his  love,  seven  thousand 
dollars,  a  palace,  three  thousand  dollars  upon  the  Pisan 
estates,  gardens  and  houses  in  Florence,  and  jewels 
worth  a  treasure,  all  this  abundance  of  wealth  had  not 
served  to  procure  her  one  friend  in  whom  to  confide,  or 
from  whom  to  seek  counsel. 

She  could  not  depend  upon  Cardinal  Ferdinando,  as  he 
had  left  his  home  at  an  early  age,  and,  obliged  to  live  in 
Rome,  had  there  placed  his  heart  and  thoughts ;  or  if 
his  mind  ever  turned  towards  his  home,  it  was  through 
pride,  or  through  desire  of  royalty,  for  which  he  was 
so  eager  that,  in  process  of  time,  being  exalted  to  the 
Tuscan  throne,  he  took  for  coat  of  arms  the  King  of  the 
bees,  with  the  motto:  Majestate  tantum.  Besides 
which,  she  had  but  little  reason  to  consider  him  kindly- 
disposed  towards  her,  as  she  had,  in  times  past,  rather 


The  Knight  Lionardo  Salviati.          51 

favored  than  opposed  the  intrigue  of  Don  Francesco 
with  Bianca ;  but  perceiving  that  this  passion  was 
taking  deep  root,  and  might  become  a  source  of  great 
trouble,  she  had  endeavored  to  repair  her  fault,  by 
thwarting  it  to  the  utmost  of  her  power,  which  only 
excited  against  her  the  bitter  hatred  of  Francesco  and 
the  vengeance  of  Bianca,  and  did  not  succeed,  on  the 
other  hand,  in  restoring  to  her  the  friendship  of  Car- 
dinal Ferdinando,  much  less  that  of  Queen  Giovanna,  her 
sister-in-law. 

Giovanna,  a  very  pious  woman,  was  still  a  woman 
wounded  in  her  dearest  affections  as  wife  and  mother, 
and  in  the  pride  of  her  noble  lineage,  seeing  a  Venetian 
adventuress  preferred  to  her,  the  daughter  of  an  Em- 
peror, and  by  birth  the  Queen  of  Hungary  and  Bohemia. 
This  giief,  which  continually  tormented  her  mind  and 
preyed  upon  her  health,  at  last  rendered  her  so  eager 
for  revenge  in  any  form,  that,  happening  one  evening, 
in  crossing  the  bridge  of  the  Santa  Trinita,  to  meet 
Bianca,  she  ordered  the  carriage  to  stop,  and  com- 
manded her  guards  to  throw  her  enemy  into  the  Arno ; 
and  if  it  had  not  been  for  Count  Eliodoro  Bastigli,  a 
very  worthy  nobleman,  who  begged  her  to  consider 
how  unbecoming  such  an  act  would  be  to  a  Queen  and 
a  Christian,  adding  also  that  she  should  leave  her  cause 
to  God,  and  offer  her  sorrows  as  an  expiation  for  her 
sins,  that  would  have  been  the  last  day  of  Bianca's  life, 
since  the  guards,  not  very  scrupulous  about  such 
matters,  were  on  the  point  of  laying  violent  hands  upon 
her.  Still  this  poor  Giovanna  could  not  so  entirely 
conquer  herself  as  not  to  hate  mortally  every  one  who 
had  contributed  to  alienate  her  husband  from  her ; 


£2  Isabella  Orsini. 

among  these,  she  suspected,  and  not  unjustly,  that 
Isabella  stood  first ;  and  for  this  reason,  and  also  that 
they  were  of  natures,  of  desires,  habits,  and  pursuits, 
not  only  different,  but  entirely  incompatible  with  each 
other,  there  was  no  evil  that  she  did  not  wish  her ;  and 
although  she  repented  and  confessed  her  ill-will,  never- 
theless, weak  human  nature  prevailing  in  her,  she  hated 
her  worse  than  before. 

As  to  Don  Pietro,  hardened  to  every  kind  of  vice, 
forgetful  not  only  of  princely  dignity,  but  even  of  what 
belonged  to  a  man,  Isabella  could  place  as  little  reliance 
upon  him.  Alas !  in  so  much  sorrow,  she  found  herself 
alone !  No  one  could  aid  her  with  counsel  or  help. 
Bitter  thoughts  now  took  possession  of  her,  and  these 
thoughts  left  their  trace  in  a  furrow  upon  her  brow  and 
a  wound  in  her  heart,  such  as  God  alone  could  heal,  or 
death  steep  in  oblivion. 

Lelio,  opening  the  door  of  the  saloon,  announced : 
"  The  illustrious  knight,  Lionardo  Salviati,  di-sires  to 
see  your  ladyship." 

"Lionardo  Salviati!"  she  exclaimed,  and  then  added 
to  herself,  "  God  surely  sends  him  to  me." 

And  Salviati  entered,  introduced  with  due  ceremony. 
There  is  no  help  for  it : — according  to  established  rule 
I  should  immediately  make  these  two  persons  speak,  and 
endeavor  to  invent  a  vivid,  strong,  and  pointed  dialogue, 
that  the  interest  of  the  narrative  might  not  flag.  In 
narratives  or  dramas,  all  that  prevents  the  action  from 
progressing  freely  towards  its  end,  is  to  be  reprehended; 
the  different  parts  ought  all  to  converge  towards  the 
deiwuement,  like  so  many  straight  lines,  for  a  straight 
line,  as  we  all  know,  is  the  shortest  distance  between 


The  Knight  Lionardo  Salviati.  53 

two  points.  And  the  good  Guizot  reminds  those  who 
may  have  forgotten  it,  of  this  maxim,  when,  being  am- 
bassador in  London,  he  allowed  no  other  device  to  be 
engraved  on  his  plate  than  a  straight  line,  with  the 
motto:  Linea  recta  brevissima  ;  whence  he  derived  in 
France  the  title  of  Cato,  and  in  Paris  they  made  illu- 
minations and  bonfires  about  it.  Does  it  not  seem  as  if 
in  France  it  is  very  easy  to  acquire  the  title  of  Cato  ? 
Whoever  holds  the  above  opinion  is  right,  but  I  cannot 
abstain  from  infringing  on  the  rule.  How  many  times 
has  it  happened  to  you,  my  amiable  lady-readers,  to 
"  Know  the  right,  and  yet  the  wrong  pursue  ?  "  And 
then,  I  am  beginning  to  grow  old,  and  old  age  is  garru- 
lous. Moreover,  when  I  took  a  fancy  to  narrate  these 
and  other  events  in  the  form  of  dramatic  narratives,  I 
designed,  following  the  dictates  of  such  rules,  to  let  you 
know  all  the  particulars  I  could  give  in  regard  to  the 
persons  and  the  times  of  which  my  story  might  treat. 
In  fact  (I  do  not  say  it  to  all,  but  to  the  greater  number 
of  you,  my  beloved  lady-readers) ,  who  would  give  you 
such  information,  if  I  did  not  ?  Now  that  we  are,  as  it 
were,  en  famille^  confess  whether  you  would  ever  have 
had  the  time  and  patience  requisite  to  gather,it  from 
the  folio  and  quarto  volumes  in  which  I  found  it  ?  heavy 
and  worm-eaten  books,  which  would  contaminate  the 
fairness  of  your  white  kid  gloves,  Avith  a  trace  of  dust 
not  less  horrible  to  behold  than  the  blood  upon  the  side 
of  Adonis.  Allow  me  then  to  speak  in  my  own  way  ; 
be  a  little  gracious  to  me,  for  I  profess  myself  entirely 
yours,  and  kneeling  with  the  knees  of  my  mindf  honor 

*  Con  le  ginocchia  deila  mente  inchine. 


54  Isabella  Orsini. 

you  as  much  as  I  possibly  can.  Perhaps  I  shall  not  weary 
you;  but  should  I  be  disappointed  in  this  hope,  the 
remedy  lies  in  your  own  power ;  you  can  do  what,  in  a 
similar  case,  Ludovico  Ariosto  advises : — 

"  Let  him  who  will,  pass  pages  three  or  four, 
Not  reading,"* 

for  the  history  would  not  be  marred  by  your  so  doing, 
nor  would  it  proceed  less  intelligibly. 

Who  then  was,  and  whence  came  this  illustrious  Sir 
Lionardo  Salviati? 

Sir  Lionardo  was  the  child  of  Giovanbattista  di  Lio- 
nardo Salviati,  and  Ginevra  di  Carlo  Antonio  Corbi- 
nelli.  His  family  had  often  been  at  enmity  with  the  family 
of  the  Medici.  Cardinal  Salviati  conspired  with  the 
Pazzi  to  destroy  it  root  and  branch.  The  attempt 
failed,  and  they  hung  him  from  the  window  of  the  Pa- 
lazzo della  Signoria,  just  as  they  found  him,  in  his  epis- 
copal robes.  This  circumstance  by  no  means  interrupted 
the  good  friendship,  much  less  the  good  relationship  of 
the  two  families ;  and  one  Salviati  was  father-in-law  of 
Lorenzo  the  Magnificent,  brother-in-law  of  Pope  Leo  X., 
and  great-grandfather  of  the  Grand  Duke  Cosimo,  who 
was  the  son  of  Maria  di  Jacopo  Salviati,  so  that  Lio- 
nardo might  be  considered  a  relation  of  Isabella.  Lio- 
nardo (although  it  could  not  well  be  said  at  that  time, 
but  can  with  perfect  propriety  be  mentioned  now)  was 
scarcely  two  years  older  than  Isabella,  and  they  had 
been  educated  together,  so  that  he  had  always  loved  her 

*  Passi  chi  vuol,  tre  carte,  o  quattro,  senza 
Leggerne  verso. 


The  Knight  Lionardo  Salviati.          55 

tenderly,  as  though  she  had  been  a  sister.  Of  a  delicate 
constitution,  and  gifted  by  nature  with  an  amiable  dis- 
position, he  was  ill  adapted  for  the  violent  knightly  exer- 
cises of  the  tunes,  and  gave  himself  up  entirely  to  the 
study  of  belles  lettres  and  philosophy.  His  countenance 
was  pale,  his  beard  thin,  his  expression  sad ;  his  lungs 
were  delicate,  yet  he  had  a  strong  voice ;  his  pronuncia- 
tion was  so  clear  and  sweet  as  to  attract  attention ;  and 
modulating  his  speech  more  like  that  of  a  petitioner  than 
a  commander,  he  easily  drew  to  himself  the  ears  and 
minds  of  those  who  listened  to  him.  The  Grand  Duke 
Cosimo  had  conferred  upon  Mm  the  Order  of  St.  Stefano, 
and  he,  accustomed  to  view  matters  superficially,  wore 
the  red  cross  devoutly  upon  his  breast,  fully  convinced 
that  the  founder  had  no  other  aim  than  that  of  freeing 
the  sepulchre  of  Christ  from  the  hands  of  the  dogs  (for 
so  were  called  the  Turks  in  those  tunes,  and  they  paid 
us  in  turn  in  the  same  coin).  Lionardo  was  born  when 
the  destinies  of  the  Republic  were  buried ;  educated  at 
court,  a  relative  of  the  Prince,  and  well  treated  by  him, 
he  had  never  listened  to  the  fiery  words  of  the  liberals, 
of  whom  some  were  wandering  in  miserable  exile,  while 
others  had  been  cut  off  either  by  a  natural  death,  the 
judicial  axe,  or  the  dagger  of  the  assassin.  Having  heard 
them  even  from  his  childhood  branded  as  grumbling, 
mischievous  men,  who  loved  to  fish  in  muddy  streams, 
and  who  were  the  worst  enemies  of  Florence,  he  had 
formed  the  opinion  that  Cosimo  I.  was  the  true  liberator 
of  the  country,  a  faithful  defender  and  supporter  of  the 
public  safety, — a  man,  in  short,  of  great  worth,  to  be  pre- 
ferred to  the  ancients,  rather  than  compared  to  the  mo- 
derns. Add  to  this,  that  his  vanity  as  writer  was  fully 


56  Isabella  Orsini. 

satisfied  by  Cosimo,  who  "  made  a  pretence  of  patroniz- 
ing men  of  letters,  and  showed  it  sometimes  by  words 
rather  than  by  deeds ;  for  no  one  of  these  was  helped, 
honored,  or  supported  by  him,  except  in  a  slight  degree."* 
And  in  truth,  when  Lionardo  recited  the  oration  in  honor 
of  his  coronation,  Cosimo  said  to  him,  without  the  slight- 
est approach  to  a  smile,  "  that  among  his  other  reasons 
for  prizing  the  dignity  which  he  had  received,  was  this 
most  worthy  and  lofty  oration  which  had  followed  it,"f 
as  if  Cosimo,  who  had  no  more  faith  in  white  than  in 
black,  was  a  man  to  pay  attention  to  such  nonsense ;  but 
he  did  so  to  acquire  renown  at  a  cheap  rate,  or  because 
he  knew  how  much  literary  men  love  flattery,  for  if  they 
often  make  vapory  speeches,  they  oftener  still  are  fed  on 
wind.  And  certainly  it  was  not  Leonardo's  fault  if, 
through  his  writings,  Cosimo  was  not  famous  in  the 
memory  of  posterity,  since  he  let  no  opportunity  escape 
of  exalting  him  to  the  skies  with  all  manner  of  praises. 

But  with  what  reason  or  justice  can  we  reproach  Lio- 
nardo Salviati,  when  other  famous  writers  spoke  even 
more  openly  and  unblushingly  ?  We  shall  mention  only 
Bernardo  Davanzati,  whom  the  translation  of  Tacitus 
ought  to  have  inspired  with  the  example,  if  not  of  his 
boldness,  at  least  of  his  modesty,  but  who  did  not  hesi- 
tate to  declare  from  the  pulpit,  that  "  Cosimo's  eleva- 
tion was  indeed  a  Divine  dispensation,  he  having  acquir- 
ed rule,  which  is  the  most  desirable  and  supreme  of  all 
blessings,  called  to  it  by  his  fellow- citizens'  love,  the 
means  of  all  others  the  most  just  and  holy,  who,  recog- 

*  Segni,  vol.  ii.,  p  337. 

f  Essay  on  the  Knight  L.  Salviati,  read  before  the  Florentine  Aca- 
demy by  Pier  F.  Carabi. 


The  Knight  Lionardo  Salviati.          57 

nising  the  virtue  of  his  heart  and  mind,  unanimously 
elected  him  Prince  in  an  heroic  and  natural  manner. 
Sk'iia,  under  his  mild  and  lenient  government,  might  say, 
like  Themistocles,  flying  to  Persia :  "  Woe  to  me  if  I 
had  not  lost,  for  then  I  should  have  been  lost !"  lie 
recalled  all  the  exiles  to  their  homes,  and  restored  to 
them  their  property ;  mild,  benign,  pious,  most  merciful, 
diligent  in  providing  food  that  the  people  might  not  suf- 
fer famine,  always  eager  to  diminish  the  public  taxes, 
and  so  solicitous  for  justice,  that  he  loved  it  better  than 
himself,  of  which  he  gave  a  manifest  proof,  when,  while 
the  war  against  Pietro  Strozzi  was  raging,  he  prayed 
God  to  give  victory  not  to  himself,  but  to  him  whose 
intentions  were  the  best,  and  whose  cause  was  the  most 
just."*  If  then,  I  say,  writers  who  were  neither  rela- 
tives nor  friends  did  not  shrink  from  such  and  similar 
enormities,  we  cannot  well  reproach  Lionardo  if  he 
ignored,  or  wished  to  ignore,  the  arms  prepared  by  Car- 
dinal Cibo,  the  perfidy  of  Francesco  Vettori,  of  Roberto 
Acciaiuoli,  of  Matteo  Strozzi,  of  the  worst  of  all  of  them 
Francesco  Guicciardini,  the  terrors  spread,  the  violences 
committed,  and  the  night  of  January  8,  1537,  when, 
Cosimo  being  present,  it  was  decided  between  the  above 
mentioned  persons,  and  Alessandro  Vitelli,  to  elect  Cosi- 
mo Duke,  and  if  it  were  necessary,  even  to  use  force ; 
and  the  morning  of  the  9th,  when  amidst  the  shouts  of 
the  soldiers  who  cried :  "  Hurra  for  the  Duke  and  the 
Medici !" — and  the  threats  of  Vitelli,  who  swore  "  that 
if  the  Senators  did  not  hasten  to  elect  Cosimo,  they  wo;ild 
be  all  dead  men,"  he  was  unanimously  elected  Duke. 

*  Bernardo  DavanzatL     Oration  on  the  Death  of  Cosimo. 
3* 


58  Isabella  Orsini. 

Cosimo  had  promised  Guicciardini  that  he  would 
allow  himself  to  be  guided  by  him  entirely  ;  but  for 
this  once  the  intriguer  was  over-reached,  and,  strange 
as  it  may  seem,  by  a  youth  of  eighteen,  who  had  pro- 
mised also  to  marry  Guicciardini's  daughter,  but  the 
latter  had  not  even  the  courage  to  remind  him  of  it,  and 
died  overwhelmed  with  self-reproaches  and  the  contempt 
of  others. 

It  is  the  duty  of  an  historian  (but  I  am  a  poor  novel- 
ist), it  is  the  duty  of  every  honest  man  to  relate  the 
good  deeds  of  which  human  nature  is  justly  proud. 
Benedetto  Varchi,  in  the  fifteenth  book  of  his  Histories, 
fearlessly  narrates  a  noble  act ;  first  of  all,  he  mentions 
that  on  the  night  preceding  the  unanimous  election  of 
Cosimo,  it  was  resolved  in  a  very  secret  conclave,  that 
he  should  be  elected  Duke  by  any  means,  even  if  it  in- 
volved the  necessity  of  using  force  /  and  then  relates 
an  anecdote  of  the  good  Palla  Rucellai,  who  boldly  said 
that  he  no  longer  wished  in  the  Republic  either  Princes 
or  Dukes,  and  to  prove  that  his  deeds  were  consistent 
with  his  words,  he  took  the  black  ball,  and  showing  it 
to  all,  threw  it  into  the  ballot-box,  exclaiming :  "  This 
is  my  vote."  Then  when  Guicciardini  and  Vettori  re- 
proved him  for  this,  observing  that  his  ball  could  count 
only  for  one,  he  replied :  "  If  you  had  decided  before- 
hand what  you  intended  to  do,  there  was  no  need  of 
calling  me  /"  and  he  rose  to  depart ;  but  Cardinal  Cybo 
detained  him  with  cunning  mildness,  and  endeavored  to 
frighten  him  with  the  show  of  the  surrounding  arms, 
and  representing  the  danger  which  he  might  incur ;  but 
the  brave  man,  not  at  all  startled,  replied :  "  Sir  Cardi- 
nal^ lam  already  more  than  sixty-two  years  old,  so  that 


The  Knight  Lionardo  Salviati.          59 

now  they  can  do  me  but  very  little  harm."  These  are 
magnanimous  examples,  which  can  never  be  remember- 
ed or  praised  enough  ;  and  as  many  times  as  I  consider 
that  Benedetto  Varchi  wrote  these  histories  by  order  of 
Cosimo,  and  read  them  to  him,  and  that  he  listened  to  them 
without  showing  any  resentment,  I  feel  forced  to  con- 
clude, that  men  capable  of  telling  the  truth  seem  to  me 
even  more  rare  than  Princes  capable  of  listening  to  it, 
and  that  adulation  is  oftener  the  cowardice  of  courtiers 
than  the  requisition  of  Princes. 

Behold  how  joyful  Siena  was !  Of  the  thirty  thou- 
sand souls  which  it  contained  before  the  war,  hardly 
ten  thousand  remained ;  what  with  the  misery,  the  bat- 
tles, and  painful  massacres  which  he  who  wishes  can  find 
described  in  the  Diary  of  Sozzini,  or  the  narratives  of 
Roffia,  fifty  thousand  peasants  perished,  without  enu- 
merating those  who  took  refuge  in  foreign  lands.  The 
country  was  deserted,  the  cultivation  of  the  fields 
entirely  neglected,  and  manufactures  destroyed,  so  that 
Siena  feels  the  consequences  of  it,  even  to  this  day. 
And  as  Tacitus  says  :  "  They  make  a  desert  and  they 
call  it  peace." 

Scipione  Ammirato,  either  through  conscientious  scru- 
ples or  horror  unwilling  to  betray  the  truth,  and  equal- 
ly unwilling  to  displease  the  Medicis,  by  whose  orders 
he  was  writing,  bethought  himself  of  the  expedient  of 
leaving  a  hiatus  in  his  history,  which  resembles  the  veil 
painted  by  Timanthes  before  the  face  of  Agamemnon, 
in  the  sacrifice  of  Iphigenia.  Bernardo  Segni,  on  the 
contrary,  in  the  histories  which  were  published  after  his 
death,  described  this  infamy  of  Siena,  saying  in  conclu- 
sion :  "  They  surrendered  to  the  Duke,  after  having  lost 


60  Isabella  Orsini. 

all  their  dominions,  destroyed  all  their  property,  and  the 
lives  of  almost  all  the  men  of  that  city  and  province." 

As  regards  provisions,  ten  times  there  was  a  scarcity, 
and  three  times  it  was  so  great  that  people  starved  to 
death ;  nor  in  small  numbers,  for  in  the  famine  of  1554, 
over  sixty  thousand  people  died  in  Florence  and  through- 
out the  state.* 

That  he  was  mild  and  merciful,  let  certain  extracts 
from  manuscripts  in  the  Magliabecchian  and  Riccardiun 
libraries  testify,  from  which  we  learn  that  in  a  very  few 
years  one  hundred  and  thirty  of  the  principal  citizens  of 
Florence  were  declared  rebels ;  most  of  those  who  fell 
into  his  hands  were  either  hung  or  beheaded ;  some  were 
sent  to  the  prisons  or  galleys ;  several  assassinated  ;  the 
property  of  all  of  them  was  confiscated,  and  even  the 
dowries  of  the  women.  On  most  of  the  petitions  implor- 
ing the  life  of  some  rebel,  Cosimo  inscribed  with  his  own 
hand :  "  Let  him  be  hung."  f  I  have  read  somewhere, 
that  he  retained  one  thousand  assassins  in  his  employ  ; 
nor  were  they  all  plebeians,  but  some  of  them  people  of 
good  standing ;  he  himself  was  personally  the  executioner 
of  several,  since,  not  to  mention  his  son,  Don  Garcia,  no 
historian  denies  that  he  killed  with  his  own  hand  Sforza 
Almeni  of  Perugia,  "  allowing,  however,"  adds  Aldo 
Manuzio,  "  the  property  of  the  murdered  man  to  go  to 
his  heirs,  and  fulfilling  his  will  as  expressed  in  a  certain 
document  which  was  found  in  his  pocket."  Does  not 
this  seem  to  you  the  act  of  a  most  benign  Prince  ! 

As  to  the  prayer  made  to  God  in  the  war  with  Strozzi, 

*  Sogni,  History ;  books  14  and  15. 
f  Manuzio ;  Life  of  Cosimo  dei  Medici. 


The  Knight  Lionardo  Salviati.          61 

that  He  would  give  the  victory  to  the  righteous  cause, 
we  find  testimonies  respecting  it  in  his  commission  to 
the  Bishop  of  Cortona,  who  was  sent  to  France  under 
the  pretext  of  paying  his  respects  to  the  Queen,  but  in 
reality  to  corrupt  the  servants  of  Piero  Strozzi,  so  that 
they  might  administer  to  their  master  the  poison  which 
he  himself  took  to  them  in  a  vial,  whereby  he  acquired 
the  nickname  of  Bishop  of  the  Vial,*  and  also  in  the  let- 
ter written  to  Captain  Giovanni  Orandini,  preserved  in 
the  Annal  XII.  of  the  Colombaria,  in  which  we  read 
the  following  words,  in  regard  to  the  order  to  assas- 
sinate Piero  Strozzi :  "  Hence  going  to  Siena,  either  by 
a  gunshot,  or  in  whatever  other  way  may  seem  best  to 
you,  rid  us  of  the  arrogance  of  this  man  ;  in  return  for 
which,  we  can  promise  ten  thousand  crowns  in  cash, 
and  our  protection,  besides  honors  and  emoluments."! 
Consequently  it  behoves  us  to  confess  that  if  he  trusted 
much  in  God,  he  trusted  even  more  in  gunshots,  or 
rather,  that  if  it  is  true  that  he  invoked  the  name  of 
God,  it  was  because  he  who  is  accustomed  to  deceive 
men,  rises  at  last  to  such  a  degree  of  folly  as  to  believe 
that  he  can  even  ^deceive  God.  And  in  reference  also 
to  his  moderation  in  imposing  taxes  upon  the  people, 
let  the  following  extract  from  an  impartial  historian  suf- 
fice :  "  He  oppressed  the  citizens  and  subjects  with  un- 
heard of  taxes,  doubling  the  old,  and  adding  new  ones ; 
in  managing  the  state,  he  has  in  a  great  measure  ruined 
the  honor  and  property  of  his  native  place,  and  Tuscany."  J 

*  Ammirato.     Florence  Edition,  1827.     Last  volume. 

f  Aldo  Manuzio. 

j  Segni's  History,  pp.  159,  184     Ed.  of  Milan. 


62  Isabella  Orsini. 

He  was  indeed  pious  too,  for  after  Scarperia  had 
been  destroyed,  and  Florence  threatened  by  an  earth- 
quake, and  the  Palazzo  della  Signoria  had  been  seven 
times  struck  by  lightning  in  one  day,  he  issued  several 
decrees  against  blasphemy  and  other  sins ;  and  in  addi- 
tion to  this,  with  a  praiseworthy  readiness,  no  sooner 
had  he  received  the  letter  of  Pius  V.,  requesting  him  to 
consign  Monsignor  Pietro  Carnesecchi  to  the  Master  of 
the  Inquisition,  accompanied  by  a  recommendation  from 
the  Cardinal  Pacheco  (who  mentioned  to  Cosimo  that 
he  had  praised  him  before  the  Pope  for  two  things, 
viz.  that  there  was  no  prince  in  all  Christendom  more 
zealous  for  the  Inquisition  than  he,  and  that  there  was 
nothing  that  the  Pontiff's  pleasure  desired  that  he 
would  not  be  willing  to  do),  than  without  any  delay, 
for  Carnesecchi  was  in  his  own  house,  nay,  even  seated 
at  his  own  dinner-table,  he  had  him  arrested  and  con- 
signed to  the  Master.  This  violation  of  the  duties  of 
hospitality  and  the  ties  of  friendship,  for  Carnesecchi 
had  always  been  well  disposed  towards  the  house  of  the 
Medicis,  and  had  long  served  Clement  VII.  as  protho- 
notary,  and  Cosimo  as  secretary  in  Venice — this  sacrifice 
of  a  man  celebrated  for  his  goodness  and  learning  by 
Sadoleto,  by  Bembo,  by  Mureto,  and  by  Manuzio,  al- 
though Ammirato,  eager  to  depreciate  the  importance 
of  the  man,  calls  him  not  an  ignorant  person — this  sacri- 
fice, I  say,  deserved  a  proportionate  reward,  which,  if 
we  do  not  find  openly  promised,  is  clearly  enough  hint- 
ed at  in  the  following  words  from  the  letter  of  June 
19th,  1566,  from  Cardinal  Pacheco  to  Cosimo:  "Be 
then  assured,  that  the  good  relation  which  your  Excel- 
lency will  hold  with  the  Pope  during  this  pontificate, 


The  Knight  Lionardo  Salviati.          63 

will  in  a  great  measure  depend  upon  this."  In  fact, 
Pietro  Camesecchi  was  decapitated  and  burned  as  an 
heretic  on  the  3d  of  October,  1567 ;  and  Cosimo  was,  by 
sanction  of  the  Pope,  crowned  Grand  Duke,  with  the 
privilege  of  wearing  the  royal  crown,  on  the  4th  of 
March,  1569.  Camesecchi  suffered  death  with  wonder- 
ful constancy,  even  with  some  ostentation  of  fortitude, 
for  he  dressed  himself  in  his  choicest  garments  and 
white  gloves ;  but  was  Cosimo  equally  tranquil,  when 
he  closed  his  eyes  in  "  that  sleep  which  knows  no  wak- 
ing ?» 

Notwithstanding  these  facts,  known  then  by  what 
has  been  before  mentioned,  and  at  the  present  day  by 
being  printed  in  history,  I,  for  my  part,  would  forgive 
the  magnificent  Knight  Salviati  for  praising  Cosimo  and 
lauding  to  the  skies  his  mercy,  his  valor,  his  prowess, 
and  clemency,  placing  him  before  Augustus,  since  the 
latter  had  to  use  proscription,  while  the  former  had 
not ;  although  Cosimo  himself  was  contented  to  resem- 
ble Augustus,  under  whose  constellation,  which  was 
Capricornus,  his  astrologer  Don  Basilic  assured  him 
that  he  was  born ;  but  a  fault  for  which  neither  I  nor 
any  one  else  can  pardon  Salviati  is  the  following  sen- 
tence, which,  since  I  shudder  to  put  my  hands  upon  it, 
I  shall  report  as  it  is  written  : 

"  They  who  refuse  the  government  of  their  country 
or  republic,  when  offered  to  them,  have  given  manifest 
proof,  not  only  of  the  cowardice  of  their  minds,  but  of 
impiety  and  arrogance.  Of  cowardice,  I  say,  failing  in 
courage,  and  refusing  honors  and  governments,  which 
are  very  desirable ;  of  impiety,  if,  knowing  themselves 
capable,  they  have  denied  their  services  to  their  coun- 


64  Isabella  Orsini. 

try ;  of  arrogance,  if,  thinking  themselves  incompetent, 
they  have  preferred  their  own  opinion  of  themselves  to 
the  judgment  of  their  country." 

Ah  !  Sir  Lionardo,  what  sad  reasoning  is  this !  How 
sophistical,  cunning,  and  entirely  unworthy  of  a  grave 
man  does  it  sound !  How  far  did  the  evil  genius  of 
lying  flattery  carry  you!  Would  it  seem  honest  to 
you  if  any  one  should  accept  the  gifts  of  a  crazy  man  ? 
Much  more  if  they  are  gifts  which  ought  not  to  be 
made,  and  such  is  the  liberty  of  one's  own  country, 
which  cannot  be  alienated,  for  it  is  derived  from  God, 
and  belongs  to  Him  ;  it  is  not  peculiar  to  any,  but  apper- 
tains to  all  generations ;  and  the  present  generation,  dis- 
inheriting posterity  of  it,  as  an  enemy  of  its  own  race 
commits  an  unlawful  act.  Is  a  physician  arrogant  when 
he  does  not  neglect  the  disease  of  a  sick  man,  but  merci- 
fully cures  him  ?  The  people,  Avhen  wearied  of  their 
own  dignity,  crouch  on  the  ground  like  the  camel,  en- 
treating some  one  to  ride  them  (even  if  they  are  not 
driven  to  it,  as  is  generally  the  case,  by  treachery  or 
fraud) ;  in  this  condition  they  can  either  be  cured  or  not. 
In  the  first  case  they  ought  to  be  cured,  and  then,  if  the 
example  of  Lycurgus  seems  too  hard  to  follow,  one 
ought  to  adopt  that  of  Solon,  or  Andrea  Doria,  or 
choose  voluntary  exile,  for  a  man  can  ill  live  as  a  citizen 
where  he  has  ruled  as  a  prince  ;  in  the  second  case,  all 
efforts  being  of  no  avail,  let  him,  like  Sylla,  throw  away 
the  battle-axe,  and  abandon  them  to  the  wrath  of  God. 
Such  at  least  ought  to  be  the  rule  of  those  men  whom 
the  world  calls  great,  and  who,  after  having  departed 
from  this  world,  furnish  themes  for  the  tongues  of  orators 
and  the  fancy  of  poets,  and  remind  us  of  our  divine  origin. 


The  Knight  Lionardo  Salvlati.          65 

To  no  citizen  is  it  permitted,  either  by  force  or  by  genius, 
offered  or  usurped,  to  take  away  the  h'berty  of  his  coun- 
try ;  morality,  affection,  religion,  especially  the  Christian 
religion,  all  forbid  it.  Yes,  indeed,  the  Christian  religion, 
because,  rejecting  the  distinction  of  St.  Thomas  as  scho- 
lastic, and  proposed  rather  as  an  abstract  disqxiisition, 
than  as  true  in  practice,  between  a  tyrant  imposed  upon 
us  by  force,  and  a  tyrant  imposed  voluntarily  by  our- 
selves, that  act  is  right,  which  we  can  always  choose,  as 
Aristotle  teaches.  Now  how  can  the  usurpation  of  one's 
country  ever  be  eligible  ?  As  to  the  usurper,  can  he 
or  will  he  consult  from  time  to  time  the  will  of  the 
people  ?  Will  he  know,  or  will  he  wish  to  know,  if  the 
movement  that  so  exalted  him  was  truly  spontaneous 
and  universal  ?  when  it  will  decline  or  when  cease  ?  As 
to  the  people,  may  it  not  be  a  transient  hallucination 
and  infirmity  of  the  country,  since  the  country  consists 
in  the  faithful  association  of  the  citizens,  to  which  we 
consecrate  our  affection  and  reverence,  and  if  needed, 
our  property  and  our  lives  ;  and  this  removed,  the  place 
in  which  we  live  cannot  be  called  our  country,  nor  de- 
serve such  sacrifices.  If  our  country  is  more  than  a 
mother  to  us,  who  is  there  that  could  enslave  his  own 
mother  ?  If  a  mother  were  to  propose  it,  she  should  be 
treated  as  an  insane  person,  and  not  be  listened  to ;  and 
if  the  son  were  to  accept  it,  he  should  be  abhorred  as 
impious.  And  mark,  that  such  usurpations  are  usually 
surrounded  with  appearances  of  free  elections ;  Julius 
Cassar  himself  ordered  that  in  the  Lupercalia  he  should 
be  presented  with  a  crown.  Moreover,  liberty,  next  to 
life,  is  our  most  precious  possession;  now  the  dearer 
anything  is  to  us,  the  less  we  can  presume  to  make  a  gift 


66  Isabella  Orsini. 

of  it;  and  if  even  it  could  be  alienated,  can  we  look 
upon  liberty  as  legitimately  yielded,  if  surrendered  in  a 
moment  of  passion,  fury,  or  error?  Finally,  let  us 
imagine  that  the  country,  when  in  trouble,  should  call 
upon  a  citizen  to  restore  it  to  peace ;  certainly  his  rule 
is  needed  until  the  object  be  accomplished.  Now, 
either  the  citizen  is  capable  of  accomplishing  the  wish 
of  his  country  or  he  is  not ;  if  capable,  let  him  fulfil  the 
duty  to  which  he  is  caUed,  and  then  retire ;  if  not  capa- 
ble, he  fails  in  his  object,  and  must  retire.  But  I,  per- 
chance^  am  endeavoring  to  demonstrate  what  does  not 
need  demonstration :  what  presumption,  what  folly  it  is, 
to  prove  by  means  of  arguments  what  nature  and  God 
have  engraven  in  our  hearts !  Lionardo  Salviati,  writ- 
ing the  above-mentioned  sentences,  did  not  perhaps  be- 
lieve them  himself;  he  did  it  for  a  show  of  eloquence, 
or  rather  for  rhetorical  paradox,  and  he  perceived  his 
error,  though  too  late  to  repair  it,  and  was  never  happy 
afterwards,  but  cursed  the  hour  in  which  he  learned  to 
write  prose ;  dismayed  when  the  truth  was  presented  to 
his  mind,  awe-struck  by  memories  of  blood,  he  begged 
God,  who  mercifully  listened  to  his  prayer,  to  shorten  a 
life  so  ill  employed  in  behalf  of  the  truth  and  of  man- 
kind, whom,  nevertheless,  he  ardently  loved. 

It  remains  to  be  seen  how  high  in  literature  our  Sal- 
viati ought  to  be  ranked,  but  the  nature  of  this  book 
not  allowing  it  as  I  could  wish,  I  will  do  my  best  to  con- 
tract the  whole  into  a  short  space.  He  was  a  very  pro- 
found scholar,  both  in  the  Greek  and  Latin  languages, 
and  an  excellent  master  of  the  Italian ;  he  acquired  and 
treasured  up  a  much  larger  amount  of  learning  than  he 
taught  or  published ;  according  to  the  custom  of  those 


The  Knight  Lionardo  Salviati.          67 

literati,  whom  we  can  compare  to  nothing  better  than  a 
miser's  chests ;  he  composed  a  great  deal  of  poetry, 
both  grave  and  gay,  which,  thank  heaven,  is  at  the 
present  day  neither  known  nor  published.  At  the  age  of 
twenty  he  wrote  the  Dialogue  on  Friendship,  in  which 
he  introduces  Girolamo  Benivieni  to  speak  the  praises 
of  friendship  to  Jacopo  Salviati  and  Piero  Ridolfi.  The 
subject  might  indeed  have  been  an  aflecting  one,  as  he 
feigned  that,  on  account  of  the  loss  of  his  best  friend, 
Pico  della  Mirandola,  a  wonderful  youth,  called  the 
Phoenix  of  talents,  Girolamo  had  determined  to  starve 
himself  to  death  ;  but  he  afterwards  came  to  a  wiser  de- 
cision ;  he  changed  his  grief  into  joy,  imagining  that 
God  had  called  Pico  before  his  tune,  as  most  deserving 
to  share  the  rewards  of  the  saints  in  heaven ;  but  the 
soulless  words,  the  pedantic  distinctions,  the  want  of 
imagination  and  heart  excite  in  us  neither  pleasure  nor 
pity,  and  weariness  overcomes  us  before  we  reach  the 
end.  His  comedies,  "  La  Spina  "  and  "  II  Grranchio," 
are  a  mixture  made  from  the  fragments  left  by  Plautus 
and  Terence,  so  that  it  is  easy  to  imagine  what  they  are. 
The  usual  old  match-making  nurses,  the  usual  cheats  and 
blacklegs,  credulous  old  men,  impossible  incidents,  inv 
probable  recognitions,  Florentine  jests,  and  heavy  lan- 
guage, so  that  we  wonder  how  people  could  take  delight 
in  such  representations,  which  at  the  present  day  we 
should  hardly  dare  to  impose  upon  them  as  a  penance. 
As  to  his  five  essays  upon  a  sonnet  of  Petrarch,  we  have 
only  to  say  that  they  prove  rather  the  extent  of  our 
forefathers'  wonderful  patience,  than  the  great  genius  of 
the  author.  His  orations,  the  funeral  ones  particularly, 
are  really  flowers  for  the  dead.  Under  the  nom  de 


68  Isabella  Orsini. 

plume  of  Infarinato*  he  wounded  with  bitter  writings 
the  sorrowful  spirit  of  Torquato  Tasso ;  but  the  Jerusa- 
lem remains,  and  the  writings  of  Salviati  are  read  by  no 
one  ;  and  this  act  injures  Salviati  both  as  a  writer  and  as 
a  man,  if  indeed  even  in  this,  his  blind  devotion  to  the 
house  of  the  Medicis  does  not  excuse  him.  He  abridged 
the  Decameron  of  Boccaccio,  but  posterity  laugh  at  his 
abridgment,  and  wish  Boccaccio  entire.  However,  he 
had  a  great  veneration  for  this  eminent  author,  and 
wrote  three  volumes  of  Advices  in  regard  to  the  beauty 
of  the  language  drawn  from  the  Decameron :  these 
volumes  may,  even  in  our  own  day,  and  perhaps  now 
more  than  ever,  be  consulted  by  the  students  of  our 
most  glorious  tongue.  The  language  used  by  Salviati 
is  pure,  but  says  nothing ;  it  seems  an  ornament  of  a 
corpse;  no  ideas,  no  thought,  no  imagination;  obliged 
to  avoid  the  great,  which  is  the  truth,  he  was  compelled 
to  have  recourse  to  the  false,  and  we  can  already  per- 
ceive in  him  the  sad  dawn  of  the  sixteenth  century.  In 
proof  of  what  I  say,  let  the  following  extract  from  his 
Oration  for  the  Coronation  of  Cosimo  I.  bear  witness; — 
"  These  walls,  most  blessed  father,  and  these  houses,  and 
these  temples,  seem  to  burn  with  the  desire  to  present 
themselves  before  the  feet  of  your  Holiness,  and  this 
river,  and  these  shores,  and  these  mountains  seem  to  de- 
sire feet  in  order  to  come  to  you,  and  these  seas,  and 
this  heaven,  a  tongue  to  speak,  and,  if  unable  to  tell  all 
that  is  in  their  hearts,  at  least  to  thank  you,  and  person- 
ally to  acknowledge  themselves  your  debtors  for  so  great 
a  benefit."  Abundant  words,  no  eloquence,  epithets, 

*  All  the  Academicians  of  La  Crusca  took  some  nom  de  plume,  by 
which  they  were  always  known. 


The  Knight  Lionardo  Salviati.          69 

adjectives,  expletives  without  number,  one  period  inter- 
mingled by  so  many  other  periods  intermingling  again 
among  themselves,  that  the  elocution  is  confused,  diffi- 
cult, entangled,  and,  above  all,  painful.  Parini  thought 
that  he  might  be  read  with  advantage;  I,  except  the 
Ad >' ices  already  mentioned,  do  not  think  so ;  and  Anni- 
bale  Caro,  although  somewhat  inclined  to  the  same  opi- 
nion regarding  Salviati,  let  it  be  clearly  understood  that 
he  did  not  consider  his  style  commendable,  for  it  was 
exceedingly  verbose,  wandered  uncertainly,  was  full  of 
meaningless  epithets,  of  long  periods,  and  of  many  more 
sentences  than  were  necessary  for  clearness  of  expres- 
sion, which  engenders  confusion,  and  wearies  the  listeners. 
In  short,  Sir  Lionardo  was  neither  a  good  citizen  nor 
a  powerful  writer,  and  yet  a  man  of  excellent  natural 
disposition,  affectionate  to  his  friends,  and  most  eager  for 
their  welfare.  Some  will  think  it  impossible  that  one 
individual  could  be  the  best  of  men  and  yet  a  bad  citi- 
zen ;  but  if  there  is  any  contradiction  we  see  it  in  nature, 
and  I  could  mention  modern  examples  if  propriety 
allowed. 


Lionardo,  entering  the  room,  first  took  good  care  to 
ascertain  that  the  page  had  closed  the  door,  then  drew 
a  screen  before  it,  and  advanced  smilingly  towards  Isa- 
bella, extending  his  hand.  But  Isabella  rushed  impul- 
sively towards  him,  and  placing  her  hand  on  his  shoul- 
der, and  leaning  her  head  upon  his  breast,  exclaimed  : 

"  O  my  good  and  noble  Lionardo,  you  at  least  have 
not  forgotten  your  Isabella." 

Lionardo,  confused  and  deeply  moved  by  such  an 
exhibition  of  feeling,  replied  : 


jo  Isabella  Orsini. 

"  My  dear  lady  Isabella,  how  or  why  should  I  have 
forgotten  you  ?" 

They  stood  thus  for  a  little  while,  and  then  seating 
themselves  upon  the  couch,  Isabella,  looking  in  his  face, 
continued  : 

"  It  is  so  long  since  we  have  seen  each  other ;  and 
you  look  ill.  Lionardo,  such  excess  of  study  injures 
you." 

"  O  Isabella,"  said  Lionardo,  "  my  trouble  is  here,"  and 
he  struck  his  heart,  "  and  I  pray  God  daily  that  He  will 
call  me  to  His  holy  peace,  and  it  seems  as  if  He  most  mer- 
cifully was  beginning  to  listen  to  me.  But  let  us  not  talk 
of  myself — I  do  not  come  here  on  my  own  account,  your 
ladyship.  Now  I  pray  you  to  hear  what  I  have  to  say, 
as  if  I  were  a  brother.  So  long  as  I  knew  you  to  be,  if 
not  happy,  at  least  safe,  I  kept  far  from  you.  I  might 
have  wished  you  to  remain  happy,  because,"  and  here  he 
lowered  his  voice,  "  true  happiness  consists  hi  a  life  of 
virtue ;  but  my  endeavors  have  been  useless,  as  well  as 
the  admonitions  of  Cosimo,  your  father,  who  often 
warned  you,  saying  '  Isabella,  I  shall  not  live  for  ever.' " 

Isabella,  calling  up  all  her  womanly  pride,  interrupted 
him: 

"  Sir  Lionardo,  what  are  you  saying  ?  If  I  am  not 
mistaken  you  mean  to  offend  me." 

"  Isabella,  surely  I  did  not  come  here  for  that.  Do 
you  believe  that  I  take  pleasure  in  saying  what  I  do  ? 
Do  you  think  that  I  have  spent  my  years  so  uselessly  as 
to  hazard  imprudent  words  or  worse  ?  Why  do  you 
repulse  me  ?  Why  dissemble  with  me  ?  But  no  mat- 
ter ;  I  do  not  ask  the  secrets  of  your  heart.  If  you  do 
not  believe  me  worthy  of  sharing  them,  I  consent  to 


The  Knight  Lionardo  Salviati.          71 

remain  ignorant.  But  hear  what  is  said  of  you ;  hear 
the  danger  and  let  us  provide  a  remedy." 

"  I  have  done  no  wrong ;  who  can  accuse  me  ?  What 
trace" 

Salviati  murmured  in  her  ear,  "  The  trace  is  outside 
the  gate  of  Prato." 

"  Ah !"  cried  Isabella  frightened,  and  starting  up  after 
a  few  moments  as  if  to  go  away,  added,  "  At  least  let 
him  be  saved." 

Lionardo,  detaining  her  by  her  dress,  said,  "  Stay,  we 
can  see  to  it  better  here." 

Isabella,  shaking  her  head,  tossed  her  hair  with  both 
hands  from  her  forehead,  as  if,  grown  bold  by  despair,  she 
wished  all  her  shame  to  be  read  there,  and  murmured — 

"Well,  I  am  guilty." 

"  Isabella,  your  life  is  in  danger." 

"  Mine  ?  And  by  whom  ?  Has  Giordano  returned 
from  Rome  ?" 

"  No.     But  what  has  Giordano  to  do  with  it  ?" 

"  And  who  but  he  could  with  justice  attempt  my  life  ? 
Francesco  ?  Would  he  punish  in  another  his  own  sin  ? 
Piero  ?  So  plunged  in  every  kind  of  vice  that  the  wa- 
ters of  the  Arno  would  not  suffice  to  purify  him." 

"  Justice  ?  And  do  you,  a  daughter  of  Cosuno,  seek 
for  justice  here  below  ?  Francesco  hates  in  others  what 
he  indulges  in  himself.  A  doubtful  rumor  has  reached 
his  ears  that  his  enemies,  rejoicing  as  the  wicked  do, 
despise  his  family,  publishing  accusations  that  are  not 
true,  or  which,  if  true,  proceed  mostly  from  himself ; 
and  in  his  dark  soul  he  suspects  his  Bianca,  and  wishes 
to  frighten  her,  that  she  may  never  have  a  single  affec- 
tion except  for  him." 


j2  Isabella  Orsini. 

"  Lionardo,  you  speak  dreadful  words,  which,  though  I 
cannot  disprove,  I  yet  cannot  entirely  believe.  In  fact 
they  seem  mostly  suspicions ;  but  there  is  a  great  differ- 
ence between  thinking  a  thing  and  wishing  it,  and 
between  wishing  and  doing  it." 

"  Yes,  truly ;  your  relations  are  accustomed  to  submit 
their  fierce  passions  to  reason ;  but  I  must  undertake  the 
thankless  office  of  speaking  ill  of  persons  whose  reputa- 
tion is  dear  to  you.  Isabella,  believe  me,  upon  my  soul 
your  life  is  in  danger." 

"  Lionardo,  you  who  are  so  wise  must  understand  only 
too  well  how  in  such  important  matters  man  cannot 
easily  be  convinced  by  the  belief  of  others.  You  have 
done  much,  too  much  perhaps,  to  permit  you  to  deny 
me  the  lesser" — 

"  It  is  true ;  and  I  have  come  here  ready  to  hazard 
my  life.  I  do  not  ask  discretion  for  myself,  I  ask  it  for 
you,  and  for  one  whom  I  know  you  love  better  than 
yourself." 

"  It  is  well.     Speak." 

*'  Yesterday  morning  early  I  went  to  see  Don  Fran- 
cesco, who  had  sent  to  ask  me  about  some  correction  of 
Boccaccio,  which  I  had  undertaken  by  his  orders.  He 
'was  in  his  laboratory.  I  nevertheless  caused  myself  to 
be  announced  by  a  valet,  who  returned  shortly,  telling 
me  to  go  in  there,  for  his  Highness  would  receive  me  as 
one  of  the  family  unceremoniously  in  his  study.  I  found 
Don  Francesco  very  busy  over  a  furnace,  examining 
some  substance  in  a  glass  vial.  As  soon  as  he  saw  me, 
he  said,  '  Good  morning  and  a  happy  year,  cousin  Lio- 
nardo. I  am  in  the  midst  of  an  experiment  which  does 
not  seem  to  succeed  very  well.  Now  I  will  read  your 


The  Knight  Lionardo  Salviati.          73 

work  on  the  Decameron,  which  you  have  corrected  to 
your  own  liking,  letting  the  beauties  remain  and  taking 
away  whatever  offends  good  taste  and  religion.  What 
a  pity  that  Giovanni  Boccaccio  had  not  good  taste !  But 
is  there  no  danger,  Lionardo,  that  he  is  utterly  lost  ? 
Or  is  it  true  that  before  dying  he  repented  and  left  the 
world  in  the  odor  of  sanctity  ?'  To  which  question  I 
replied  that  the  holy  Giovanni  Colombini,  in  the  life  of 
the  holy  Pietro  dei  Petroni,  assures  us  that  the  holy 
Pietro,  a  little  while  before  his  departure  to  a  better  life, 
sent  Giovacchini  Ciani  to  reprove  Boccaccio  for  his 
writings  and  for  his  bad  taste,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
reveal  certain  secrets,  so  buried  in  his  own  memory  that 
he  was  very  sure  that  no  one  but  himself  knew  of  them, 
which  so  affected  Boccaccio  that  he  bitterly  mourned 
his  past  errors,  and  confessing  himself  before  God  made 
a  wonderful  repentance.  '  Thanks,'  replied  Francesco, 
'  you  have  given  me  great  consolation  in  assuring  me 
that  our  Giovanni  is  in  a  place  of  safety.  Now  be  kind 
enough  to  wait  for  me  a  few  minutes  while  I  despatch 
this  business.  Go  into  the  library,  you  will  find  a  goodly 
number  of  books,  besides  several  new  ones.'  I  entered 
the  library  and  pretended  to  read  the  first  book  that  I 
took  up,  but  in  reality  watched  the  doings  of  Francesco. 
He  kept  blowing  the  fire  and  looking  at  the  vial ;  then 
turning  to  a  little  vase  upon  the  table  and  taking  from 
it  a  pinch  of  powder,  he  examined  it  attentively  and 
said,  "  I  must  confess  our  ancestors  knew  more  than  we 
do,  or  that  they  pretended  to.  The  color  is  there ;  the 
appearance  is  the  same  ;  but  the  taste — the  taste — and 
without  doubt  there  must  be  arsenic  in  it.  Yet  in  the 
notes  of  my  Poggio,  and  in  the  Trivigiana  Chronicle,  I 


74 


Isabella  Orsini. 


find  that  the  Count  de  Virtu  (by  my  faith  that  title 
seems  to  fit  him  well !)  poisoned  his  uncle  Bernabo  with 
a  poison  that  seemed  precisely  like  salt,  putting  it  very 
naturally  upon  French  beans ;  but  I  have  not  been  able 
to  find  it.  I  would  give  a  thousand  ducats.'  Just  then 
a  valet  entered  and  announced  the  High  Sheriff.  I  know 
not  why,  but  I  began  to  tremble.  I  looked  around  the 
room  to  see  if  there  were  any  outlet,  and  perceived  a 
door  opening  upon  the  courtyard.  Just  as  I  was  on  the 
point  of  going  out,  God  inspired  me  to  turn  back.  I  fol- 
lowed the  inspiration,  as  I  have  always  found  it  best  to  do, 
and  began  to  listen  carefully.  The  Sheriff  had  entered 
and  was  saying,  '  The  knight  Antinori,  as  your  Serene 
Highness  knows,  arrived  yesterday  from  Porto  Ferraio.' " 

"  How !"  interrupted  Isabella,  "the  Knight  Bernardo 
in  Florence  without  our  knowledge  ?" 

"  The  Knight  Antinori  is  at  this  moment  in  his  grave, 
God  have  mercy  upon  his  soul !" 

"  Holy  Mother  of  God !  What  do  I  hear  ?  Are  you 
sure  of  it,  Lionardo  ?" 

"  Let  me  finish.  The  Sheriff  continued :  '  We  brought 
him  immediately  to  the  Knight  Serguidi,  who  threaten- 
ed him  terribly  for  the  shame  brought  upon  his  Prince, 
warning  him,  should  he  find  him  guilty,  that  he  would 
leave  him  to  your  mercy.  But  the  Knight  denied  all 
steadfastly,  until  Serguidi  produced  a  letter,  saying  in  a 
menacing  tone  :  "  Can  you  deny  this  ?"  The  Knight,  as 
soon  as  he  saw  the  paper,  became  as  white  as  a  sheet ; 
perfectly  overwhelmed,  he  raised  his  hands  in  entreaty, 
without  uttering  a  word.  "  Go,"  added  Serguidi,  "  you 
do  not  deserve  pardon."  The  Knight  departed  trem- 
bling, and  went  mechanically  towards  his  house.  I  fol- 


The  Knight  Lionardo  Salviati.          75" 

lowed  him  with  some  guards,  and  amused  myself  with 
watching  him.'  *  Your  usual  habit !'  interrupted  Fran- 
cesco ;  '  give  me  the  bellows ;  go  on,  I  am  listening ; 
tell  all,  for  I  take  pleasure  in  it.'  And  the  Sheriff  con- 
tinued :  '  He  went  as  if  by  inspiration,  for  he  went  to- 
wards the  palace.  When  he  had  readied  the  gate  of 
Lions,  I  advanced  and  said  to  him  :  "  Sir,  be  pleased  to 
allow  me  to  serve  you  as  major-domo  ;  our  most  noble 
master  has  ordered  lodgings  suitable  for  you  to  be  pre- 
pared here."  The  Knight  looked  at  me  as  if  in  a  dream,' 
but  let  me  lead  him  like  a  lamb :  this  morning,  before 
day-break,  I  entered  his  prison  with  the  chaplain,  and 
he  was  sleeping  like  one  enchanted — '  'Was  sleep- 
ing ?'  asked  Francesco,  lifting  up  his  face,  which  seemed 
as  if  stained  with  blood,  from  the  burning  coals.  '  He 
was  sleeping.'  *  He  should  not  have  slept.'  '  Yet  he 
did  sleep.'  '  You  let  him  pass  his  last  night  in  peace. 
So  it  may  be  said  that  he  suffered  nothing.  And  I  can- 
not begin  over  again.  Is  it  not  so  ?'  The  Sheriff  gave 
an  affirmative  nod  with  his  head,  and  continued :  '  I  shook 
him,  and  he  awoke,  and  raising  himself  up  into  a  sit- 
ting postiire  on  the  bed,  asked  :  "  What  is  it  ?"  "  Rouse 
yourself  for  a  moment,"  I  replied  to  him,  "  and  after- 
wards you  may  sleep  at  your  ease ;  here  is  a  priest ; 
you  have  but  one  hour  to  live." '  *  And  what  did  he 
say  ?'  said  Francesco.  '  He  replied  :  "  May  God's  will 
be  done." '  '  What !  did  he  say  that  ?'  *  He  did.'  '  But 
have  they  no  fear  of  death  ?'  '  It  seems  that  you  have 
accustomed  them  to  it.'  '  In  this  case,  death  seems  too 
small  a  thing ;  we  will  take  care  in  future.'  '  He  con- 
fessed in  due  form,  and  then  asked  me  for  writing  mate- 
rials. I  brought  him  paper,  pen,  and  ink,  but  he  trem- 


y6  Isabella  Orsini. 

bled  so  that  he  could  not  write  a  word.  Look,  your 
Highness,'  and  he  showed  a  paper.  Francesco,  putting 
down  the  bellows,  took  it,  and  after  examining  it,  said : 
'  What  an  odd  thing,  I  can  read  nothing  here.'  '  I  told 
you  he  could  not  write  a  word.  Then  I  thought  it 
Avell  to  observe  :  "  Sir  Knight,  since  I  perceive  that  you 
are  unable  to  do  your  duty,  allow  me  to  do  mine ;"  I 
then  handcuffed  him,  and  putting  a  rope  round  his  neck, 
hung  him  according  to  your  command.'  *  It  is  well — 
and  the  Captain  Francesco !'  '  Oh,  the  Captain  had 
got  wind  of  it  and  escaped  ;  he  cannot  be  found  in  Flo- 
rence.' Don  Francesco  burst  into  a  great  passion,  his 
mouth  quivered  and  his  eyes  sparkled.  '  Go,  pursue 
him !'  he  exclaimed,  '  send  special  couriers,  despatch 
horses — to  the  confines — to  the  confines.'  But  the  She- 
riff knew  not  what  to  do.  Meantime  the  glass  vial, 
from  some  unknown  cause,  burst,  and  some  of  the  frag- 
ments of  the  broken  glass  struck  the  Sheriff  on  the  face, 
penetrating  into  the  flesh ;  he  uttered  a  cry  of  pain. 
Don  Francesco  then,  in  a  moment,  grew  thoughtful 
and  silent,  except  that  turning  towards  the  Sheriff,  he 
said  coldly :  '  Hasten  to  cure  yourself,  for  the  glas*  is 
poisoned.'  The  Sheriff  fled  hastily,  groaning  :  '  Oh,  my 
poor  wife  and  children !'  If  any  one  at  that  moment 
had  tried  to  bleed  me,  not  a  drop  of  blood  would  have 
followed  the  lancet.  I  felt  as  if  nailed  to  the  spot.  I 
began  to  commend  my  soul  to  God,  but  by  good  chance 
Francesco  sank  into  a  seat,  leaning  his  head  down,  as  if 
buried  in  profound  thought ;  and  I  distinctly  heard  him 
mutter  more  than  once  to  himself:  '  Now,  we  will 
look  after  the  women,  and  quickly  too  ;  but  Giordano 
is  in  Rome,  and  without  his  consent  it  would  not  be 


The  Knight  Lionardo  Salviati.          77 

right ;  I  might  take  the  liberty — but  no — let  him  think 
to  render  an  account — to  whom  ?  To  God — to  God ! 
Oh,  this  God  lays  claim  to  so  many  accounts  !'  I  mean- 
time, having  regained  my  courage,  went  softly  out  by 
the  door  that  opened  into  the  court-yard,  and  took 
refuge  under  the  open  vault  of  heaven,  for  while  in  that 
house  I  feared  every  moment  that  the  walls  of  the 
accursed  place  would  fall  upon  us !" 

Isabella  seemed  petrified  by  this  atrocious  recital ; 
and  the  unhappy  Lionardo,  burying  his  face  in  his 
hands,  said  in  a  mournful  voice  : 

"  O  my  God !  I  have  used  my  speech,  the  noblest 
gift  with  which  Thou  hast  endowed  man,  to  praise  these 
Medicis  !  What  will  posterity  think  of  me  ?  May  my 
works  be  scattered !  May  my  descendants  soon  forget 
them !  And  thou,  O  Lord,  wrho  seest  my  sorrow  by 
my  wishing  oblivion  for  the  creations  of  my  mind,  for 
which  I  have  spent  my  health  and  talents,  Thou  know- 
est  how  truly  this  prayer  comes  from  my  heart." 

Great  indeed  must  have  been  the  grief  that  saddened 
the  heart  of  Lionardo  Salviati ! 

But  soon  recalling  himself  to  the  present  emergency, 
Salviati  turned  to  Isabella  and  said : 

"  Come,  Isabella,  courage !" 

"It  is  not  fear  that  affects  me — it  is  horror,  it  is 
shuddering  dread.  Unhappy  Eleonora !  so  young,  so 
happy,  so  attached  to  pleasures  and  to  life  !  We  must 
save  her,  we  must  warn  her." 

"  My  Lady,  remember,  it  is  not  your  secret ;  we  will 
think  of  saving  her  afterwards." 

"  Well,  my  only  friend,  my  father,  my  all ;  I  intrust 
myself  soul  and  body  in  your  hands." 


78  Isabella  Orsini. 

"  It  is  well,  time  presses  ;  you  must  write  a  letter  to 
her  Majesty  Catherine  of  France ;  she  has  a  noble  heart ; 
bred  to  misfortunes,  she  must  have  learned  to  help  the 
unfortunate ;  and  a  Medici  herself  by  birth,  she  will 
shrink  from  having  her  family  disgraced  by  domestic 
tragedies.  Relationship  also  may  do  something,  and 
each  of  these  considerations  separately,  or  all  combined, 
seem  to  me  more  than  enough  to  excite  her  royal  heart 
to  grant  you  an  asylum,  and  provide  means  for  your 
flight.  I  will  undertake  the  responsibility  of  a  letter 
reaching  her  at  Paris  ;  this  evening  a  relation  of  mine, 
one  of  the  Corbinelli  family,  a  discreet  and  prudent 
young  man,  sets  out  for  Lyons,  and  he  can  either  con- 
sign it  to  the  Lieutenant  of  the  city,  or  if  he  does  not 
consider  it  safe  to  do  so,  will  for  my  sake  carry  it  him- 
self to  Paris.  As  soon  as  we  receive  a  reply,  it  will  not 
be  difficult  to  convey  you  to  Leghorn,  and  when  there, 
you  can  embark  for  Genoa,  or,  better  still,  for  Mar- 
seilles ;  reaching  which  you  may  think  yourself  safe — " 

"  But  Eleonora  ?» 

"  Then  we  will  warn  her,  and  she  can  either  join  you,  or 
go  to  Spain  to  the  Duke  d' Alba,  or  to  her  brother  .the  Vice- 
roy of  Naples.  But  now  you  must  write  the  letter,  for 
time  flies."  Isabella  began  to  write  ;  but  although  she  had 
a  wonderful  facility  in  composition,  words  now  seemed  to 
fail  her  ;  she  hesitated  and  kept  beginning  anew  :  many 
and  deep  feelings,  as  may  be  easily  imagined,  disturbed 
her  mind.  At  last  the  letter  was  written,  and  she  said : 

"  See,  Lionardo,  if  it  reads  well ;  I  never  in  my  life 
composed  anything  with  more  difficulty  than  this  letter. 
Forget  that  you  are  the  Infarinato,  I  beg  of  you — " 

"  Let  us  begin. 


The  Knight  Lionardo  Salviati.          79 

" '  Most  honored  Queen  :  one  related  to  you  by  ties 
of  blood,  the  only  surviving  daughter  of  Cosimo  dei 
Medici,  entreats  you  to  save  her  life.  Permit  me  to 
be  silent  as  to  whether  I  am  innocent  or  guilty  of  the 
crime  which  my  death  is  intended  to  expiate;  but  if 
guilty,  let  my  youth,  the  absence  of  my\  husband,  oppor- 
tunity, the  examples  set  before  me,  and  a  woman's  heart 
overflowing  with  love,  plead  for  me,  as  one  not  entirely 
unworthy  of  pardon.  I  have  much  to  fear  from  the 
Duke  of  Bracciano,  my  husband,  and  more  from  my 
brother  Francesco.  I  confide  implicitly  in  you ;  give 
me  that  assistance  which  the  urgency  of  the  case  de- 
mands, that  it  may  not  be  too  late.  To  me,  you  will 
preserve  life,  to  your  house,  fame,  and  you  will  perform 
an  act  worthy  of  such  a  magnanimous  Queen,  and  one 
for  which  God  will  amply  reward  you.  I  will  foUow 
whatever  course  your  prudence  may  dictate,  hoping  and 
wishing  to  spend  in  some  holy  convent,  devoted  to  God's 
service,  the  remainder  of  my  miserable  life,  and  to  ob- 
tain through  His  mercy,  remission  of  my  sins. 

" '  To  Catherine,  Queen  of  France.'  " 

"  It  seems  right  to  me ;  copy  it,  and  add  that  an  an- 
swer should  be  directed  to  me." 

"But,"  added  Isabella,  looking  down  and  blushing, 
"  shall  I  abandon  Troilo  ?" 

"Troilo,"  answered  Lionardo  gravely,  "knows  that  the 
Turks  are  threatening  Christendom ;  he  must  go  to  Hun- 
gary to  fight  the  enemies  of  the  faith,  and  by  an  honorable 
death  gain  God's  pardon.  But  be  careful  that  he  knows  no- 
thing of  all  this ;  he  will  cei*tainly  ruin  you  and  himself  too." 

Isabella  uttered  a  deep  sigh,  and  with  trembling  hand 


8o  Isabella  Orsini. 

began  to  copy  the  letter.  As  soon  as  it  was  finished, 
Lionardo  burned  the  first  copy  and  made  an  envelopewith 
great  care  ;  he  sealed  the  letter  with  the  Medici  arras,  and 
just  as  he  was  about  to  write  the  direction,  he  heard  a 
noise  as  of  a  body  thrown  with  violence  against  the  wall, 
and  then  falling  upon  the  pavement;  the  door  was  sudden- 
ly opened,  and  Troilo  appeared,  drawing  aside  the  screen ; 
standing  in  the  door-way,  he  exclaimed  with  anger : 

"  One  would  think  that  you  were  weary  of  life !" 

Lionardo  concealed  the  letter  in  his  bosom  as  quickly 
as  possible;  but  not  so  expeditiously  but  that  Troilo 
perceived  the  movement,  and  advancing  a  few  steps  into 
the  room,  stopped,  and  fixing  his  sinister  eyes  with  an 
ironical  smile  upon  the  Duchess,  said : 

"  Since  you  choose  to  place  guards  at  your  door,  1 
advise  your  ladyship  to  select,  if  not  more  impertinent — 
that  is  impossible — at  least  more  valiant  ones." 

"  I  thought  that,  in  my  own  house,  the  declaration  of 
my  will  would  be  sufficient " 

"  But  you  thought  wrong,  for  you  see  that  I  have 
entered."  And  then  laying  aside  his  ironical  tone,  he 
added  angrily :  "  What  subterfuges,  what  treasons  are 
these  ?  You  would  betray  me,  Lady  Isabella !  But  if 
death  is  to  be  met,  remember  there  are  two  of  us.  If 
you  are  of  the  Medici  race,  I  am  of  the  Orsini ;  and  I 
swear  by  Heaven  that  no  dog  ever  bit  me,  without  my 
being  revenged  on  him.  What  are  you  doing,  Sir 
Knight  ?  What  paper  is  that  which  you  have  hidden 
in  your  bosom  ?  Take  it  out  quickly,  I  must  see  it." 

"  Sir  Knight,"  replied  Salviati,  in  an  unruffled  voice, 
*'  it  is  something  which  does  not  in  the  least  concern  you, 
and  you  cannot  honorably  demand " 


The  Knight  Lionardo  Salviati.          81 

"  We  can  decide  upon  that  after  reading  the  let- 
ter." 

"  Permit  me  to  decline  satisfying  you,  Sir  Knight." 

"  Signor  Salviati,  I  am  little  used  to  opposition ;  give 
me  the  letter,  it  will  be  better  for  you." 

"  Troilo,  if  you  esteem  my  favor  dear  to  you,  I  com- 
mand you  to  be  silent  and  depart " 

"  Isabella,  it  is  now  time  for  you  to  cease  commanding 
and  begin  to  obey." 

"  Sir  Troilo,  I  assure  you  upon  the  faith  of  an  honora- 
ble Knight,  that  this  does  not  concern  you." 

"  Faith !  Perhaps  the  same  with  which  you  sounded 
the  praises  of  his  Highness,  Sir  Cosimo  !  An  honorable 
Knight  never  enters  by  stealth  the  house  of  another,  nor 
meddles  in  affairs  that  do  not  concern  him,  nor  hatches 
plots,  for  if  they  were  not  plots,  you  would  not  refuse 
to  give  an  account  of  them." 

"  And  who  are  you,  then,  Sir  Troilo,  I  pray  you " 

"  I  ? — I  am  he  to  whom  the  Duke  of  Bracciano  gave 
the  charge  of  his  wife " 

"  And  dare  you  make  a  right  of  this  charge  ?  Ah ! 
Sir  Troilo." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Salviati?  Beware!  I  am  a 
man  capable  of  cutting  out  your  tongue — you  know " 

"  Troilo,  how  can  you  so  far  forget  yourself?  You 
owe  him  as  much  respect  as  if  he  were  my  brother." 

"  Your  brothers  are  worthy  of  respect,  truly !  The 
letter,  Salviati— the  letter !" 

"  I  will  never  give  it  to  you." 

"  Beware,  or  I  will  use  force " 

"  Would  you  act  the  ruffian  ?  Do  you  not  see  that 
I  am  unarmed  ?" 

4* 


82  Isabella  Orsini. 

"  So  much  the  better ;  I  can  the  more  easily  accom- 
plish my  wishes.  But  hud  you  a  sword,  it  would  make  no 
difference ;  he  who  wields  the  pen,  can  ill  wield  the  sword." 

"  The  letter  is  next  my  heart,"  said  Salviati,  crossing 
his  arms  over  his  breast,  "  and  you  shall  not  have  it 
unless  you  tear  forth  both." 

"  And  I  will  do  it " 

"  Madman !  Before  touching  him,  you  must  pass 
over  my  body !"  cried  Isabella,  rushing  between  Troilo 
and  Lionardo. 

"  Back !"  exclaimed  Troilo,  and  with  one  dash  of  the 
hand  he  pushed  the  Duchess  upon  the  couch. 

"  Ah  miserable,  miserable  Isabella !  For  what  a  man 
have  you  sacrificed  your  life  !" 

"  The  letter !" 

"  I  have  told  you  the  only  way  to  obtain  it." 

"  Your  blood  be  upon  your  own  head." — And  draw- 
ing his  dagger  with  his  left  hand,  Troilo  sought  to  stab 
him.  Lionardo  did  not  move  a  step  :  intrepid,  his  arms 
still  folded  on  his  breast,  he  stood  ready  to  suffer  a  vio- 
lence to  which,  by  his  personal  weakness,  as  well  as  by 
his  being  unarmed,  he  could  oppose  no  resistance. 
Troilo  had  almost  reached  him,  when  the  door  was 
hastily  thrown  open,  and  Lelio  Torelli  appeared,  much 
excited,  and  exclaimed  with  a  loud  voice : 

"  His  Lordship,  Duke  of  Bracciano  !" 

This  name  had  the  effect  of  a  Medusa's  head  upon 
Troilo ;  he  recoiled,  quickly  replacing  his  dagger  in  its 
sheath,  and  endeavoring  to  compose  his  ruffled  counte- 
nance; but  these  two  contrary  sentiments,  anger  and 
self-control,  instead  of  inducing  composure,  so  disorder- 
ed him  that  he  was  fearful  to  look  upon. 


The  Knight  Lionardo  Salviati.          83 

* 
Isabella,  who   was  lying  terrified  upon  the  couch, 

raised    herself  as   if  by  electricity,  and  stood  looking 
intently  at  the  door. 

The  knight,  Salviati,  thinking  that  not  being  a  mem- 
ber of  the  family,  he  might  go  out  as  if  nothing  had 
happened,  saluting  the  Duke  as  he  passed,  and  reserving 
his  compliments  for  another  time,  departed  without  any 
appearance  of  haste,  and  with  his  usual  composure. 
Passing  through  the  halls  and  down  the  staircase,  he 
wondered  greatly  at  neither  meeting  the  Duke,  nor 
seeing  in  the  court-yard  nor  at  the  door,  any  indications 
of  his  arrival ;  he  did  not  understand  what  it  meant, 
but  did  not  deem  it  prudent  to  go  back  to  discover, 
thinking  that  it  could  be  explained  at  some  other  time. 

Isabella  and  Troilo  kept  their  eyes  intently  fixed 
upon  the  door  for  some  moments,  expecting  to  see  Sir 
Paolo  Giordano  appear ;  but  finding  that  they  looked  in 
vain,  Troilo,  overcoming  his  astonishment  the  first,  asked 
Lelio : 

"  Well,  where  is  the  Duke  ?" 

Lelio,  sure  by  this  time  of  Salviati's  safety,  turned 
with  an  ingenuous,  yet  at  the  same  tune  mocking  look 
towards  Isabella,  saying : 

"  His  Lordship,  Duke  of  Bracciano,  sends  greeting  to 
your  Ladyship,  and  notifies  you,  that  after  despatching 
a  few  other  affairs  at  Rome,  he  depends  upon  joining 
your  Ladyship  towards  the  middle  of  the  coming  month 
of  June." 

And  making  a  low  bow,  and  looking  somewhat 
askance  at  Troilo,  he  retired.  Troilo,  perceiving  the 
trick,  clenched  his  hands  and  muttered  between  his  teeth : 

"  Traitorous  dog,  you  shall  pay  me  for  this  !" 


CHAPTER  IV. 

HOMICIDE. 

FBANZ.  Voi  volete  fanni  morire  di  languors,  lo  morrd  di  disperaziono 
nella  eta  della  speranza,  e  voi  no  avrele  la  colpa  .  .  .  Dio  mio  1  io  cho  non  ho 
goccia  <li  sangue  che  non  sia  vostro !  lo,  che  resplro  soltanto  per  amarvi,  e  per 
obbedirvi  in  tutto  .... 

ADELAIDE.    Esci  dal  mio  cospetto  .... 

FRANZ.    Signora ! 

ADELAIDE.    Va,  accnsami  dnnque  al  tuo  signore  : 

GOETHE.    Goete  di  Berliehingon. 

FBANZ.  Ton  wish  me  to  die  of  anguish.  I  shall  die  with  despair  in  the 
springtime  of  my  hope,  and  It  will  be  your  fault  ...  Ye  gods  I  I  have  not  a 
drop  of  blood  which  is  not  yours!  I  exist  only  to  love  and  obey  you  in  every- 
thing .  .  . 

ADELAIDE.    Leave  my  presence  .  .  . 

FRANZ.    My  Lady  I 

ADELAIDE.    Go  then,  accuse  me  to  your  Lord  .  .  . 

MISTRUST  had  insinuated  itself  into  Isabella's  heart, 
like  an  asp  into  a  nest.  Troilo's  cruel  words  rang  in- 
cessantly in  her  ears ;  she  saw  his  cowardly  suspicion, 
she  felt  that  she  might  even  be  betrayed  and  accused  by 
him ;  and  gazing  into  this  abyss  of  crime,  she  was  over- 
powered by  a  moral  tremor,  not  unlike  the  physical 
shudder  which  one  experiences  while  looking  down  an 
Alpine  precipice;  she  therefore  took  every  means  to 
avoid  meeting  Troilo,  or  if  she  did  meet  him,  was 
always  accompanied  by  some  one.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  necessity  of  keeping  Lelio  Torelli  near  her  increased, 


Homicide.  85 

and  the  attention  of  the  youth,  his  devotion,  and 
diligence  in  pleasing  her,  could  not  but  make  Isabella 
regard  him  with  singular  affection.  Destined,  as  it 
were,  always  to  be  imprudent,  she  did  not  consider  that 
the  boy  was  fast  approaching  manhood,  and  that  at  his 
age  the  passions  overwhelm  the  soul  like  a  hurricane : 
she  did  not  fear,  she  did  not  even  perceive  the  fatal 
passion  that  consumed  Lelio.  Only  instead  of  kissing 
him  on  the  forehead  as  she  used  when  he  was  a  boy, 
she  sometimes  smoothed  his  beautiful  hair,  and  patted 
him  kindly  on  the  cheek,  as  a  mother  might  caress  a 
dear  son ;  and  let  him  who  now  feels  the  ardor  of  a  first 
love,  or  has  once  felt  it,  judge  if  this  was  not  adding 
fuel  to  the  flame.  Almost  always  absorbed  in  her  own 
imminent  danger,  Isabella  did  not  care  for,  or  perhaps 
notice  certain  acts  of  Lelio,  that  in  a  more  peaceful 
frame  of  mind  she  would  easily  have  understood. 
When  she  walked  in  the  garden,  for  she  now  rarely  left 
the  house,  she  often  became  so  lost  in  thought,  that  in 
order  to  avoid  the  trees  or  statues,  she  took  Lelio's  arm, 
and  as  her  feelings  prompted,  would  press  it  more  or 
less,  so  that  her  soul  was,  by  these  means,  transfused 
into  the  youth  more  vividly  than  by  an  electric  shock, 
and  he  gazed  upon  her  with  long,  passionate  looks,  and 
drank  deep  draughts  of  the  poison  that  had  already 
irremediably  darkened  his  very  life. 

How  changed  was  Torelli's  face !  One  could  hardly 
have  told  his  age  ;  his  lips  were  parted  and  burning  like 
a  man  consumed  with  tormenting  thirst,  his  cheeks  thin 
and  hollow,  and  often  bathed  with  perspiration.  The 
fatal  passion,  planted  like  a  dagger  in  his  heart,  had 
given  birth  to  so  many  disorders  of  his  nervous  system, 


86  Isabella  Orsini. 

that  the  slightest  emotion  would  cause  him  to  tremble 
from  head  to  foot,  for  many  minutes ;  his  veins  were 
swollen,  and  at  every  slight  movement  his  breast  would 
heave  as  if  about  to  burst ;  a  continual  anxiety  tortured 
him :  when  any  sudden  light  burst  upon  him,  myriads  of 
sparks  or  a  dizzy  mist  would  veil  his  eyesight ;  he  had  a 
painful  beating  in  his  temples,  his  food  was  distasteful  to 
him,  his  nights  were  sleepless,  or  full  of  frightful  dreams. 
Such  misery  could  not,  and  did  not  last. 

It  was  the  evening  of  a  most  beautiful  day  in  June  : 
the  last  rays  of  the  setting  sun  bathed  half  the  globe  in 
a  clear  golden  light,  and  when  this  light  died  away  five 
brilliant  rays  were  diffused  over  the  blue  canopy  of  hea- 
ven, representing  to  the  awakened  fancy  the  hand  of  the 
Creator,  peacefully  extended  to  bless  all  nature :  the 
triumphal  leaves  of  the  laurel,  the  pointed  myrtle,  the 
dented  oak,  and  all  the  multiform  family  of  trees  seemed 
so  distinctly  outlined  on  this  glorious  field,  that  one 
might  almost  have  counted  them:  the  evening  wind 
stirred  the  topmost  branches,  which,  swaying  to  and  fro, 
seemed  as  if  interchanging  mysterious  words  ;  the  birds, 
before  closing  their  eyes  to  sleep,  sang,  with  the  sweetest 
notes  that  nature  teaches,  and  that  nature  alone  can 
teach,  a  hymn  to  the  Lord ;  the  rivulet,  breaking  over 
the  stones,  did  not  seem  to  weep,  but  to  murmur  joy- 
fully in  its  noisy  babbling ;  sweet  odors  arose  from  the 
open  chalices  of  the  flowers ;  with  all  the  powers  granted 
by  heaven  to  created  things,  the  sky,  the  earth,  and  the 
waters  seemed  vicing  with  each  other  in  testifying  their 
gratitude  towards  the  Great  Father  of  the  universe,  and 
an  enchantment  sprang  from  all,  and  a  voice  arose,  which 
seemed  to  say, — We  are  born  to  love  ! 


Homicide.  87 

Isabella  had  come  out  upon  the  terrace,  and  sitting 
there,  leaned  her  arm  upon  Lelio's  shoulder,  and  sup- 
ported her  face  upon  her  hand ;  her  eyes  uplifted,  she 
seemed  a  Xiobe,  or  rather  a  penitent  Magdalen,  as  the 
noble  imagination  of  Guido  afterwards  conceived  her. 
This  attitude  of  prayer,  of  mute  sorrow,  and  of  weary 
peace  was  almost  unearthly  to  look  upon :  misfortune 
had  indeed  faded  her  beauty ;  the  slow  fever  that  con- 
sumed her  life  veiled  it  in  a  sad  cloud,  but  still  her  brow 
appeared,  as  ever,  of  wonderful  loveliness — beautiful  as 
that  of  a  fallen  angel ! 

She  gazed  upon  the  heavens,  and  Lelio  upon  her,  for 
in  the  lady's  face  he  saw  his  heaven ;  and  thus  he  re- 
mained absorbed  and  motionless  as  a  statue ;  his  eyes 
were  filled  with  tears,  that  flowed  abundantly  down  his 
cheeks  without  anguish  or  any  other  sensation ;  as  I 
have  sometimes  seen  the  dew  gathered  in  the  hollow  of 
some  statue's  eyes,  so  that  it  seemed  to  be  weeping; 
then  his  tears  ceased  to  flow,  his  eyes  became  dry  and 
dilated,  glittering  with  an  evil  light,  a  tremor  like  the 
chill  of  a  fever  spread  through  him ;  suddenly,  scarce 
knowing  what  he  did,  overcome  by  a  power  stronger 
than  himself,  he  threw  his  arms  round  Isabella,  and 
covered  her  face,  neck,  and  bosom  with  kisses,  with 
such  convulsive  madness,  such  great  passion,  that  in 
truth  it  was  deserving  of  pity,  for  one  would  have  said, 
— This  youth  pours  out  his  soul  in  these  kisses. 

Isabella,  taken  for  a  moment  by  surprise,  resumed  the 
haughtiness  of  her  offended  dignity,  and  more  than  dig- 
nity, her  royal  pride,  and  trembling  herself,  but  from 
intense  scorn,  pushed  the  young  page  violently  from  her, 
and  unlocked  her  arm  from  his ;  then  without  a  word, 


88  Isabella  Orsini. 

her  eyes  sparkling,  she  walked  to  her  room  that  opened 
upon  the  terrace :  Lelio,  trance-like,  followed  her,  as  if 
unconscious  of  what  he  had  done.  Isabella  quickly  ap- 
proached a  table,  and  took  a  little  silver  bell  reso- 
lutely in  her  hand;  then  paused  suddenly,  as  if  "  at 
war  'twixt  will  and  will  not ; "  already  a  milder  thought 
seemed  to  bloom  amid  this  storm  of  passion,  although 
anger  predominated ;  as  we  sometimes  see  the  fury  of 
the  winds  striving  with  the  fury  of  the  waves ;  but  when 
the  wind  is  calmed,  and  the  glorious  light  of  the  sun 
again  shining  forth,  the  roaring  of  the  angry  and  turbu- 
lent billows  still  continues.  After  some  hesitation,  the 
first  impulse  conquered,  and  she  rang  the  bell  twice, 
once  was  not  enough ;  a  valet  appeared,  to  whom  the 
Duchess  said : — "  Send  the  major-domo." 

The  major-domo,  after  some  delay,  entered  to  receive 
the  commands  of  the  Duchess.  Don  Inigo  was  a  Spani- 
ard by  birth,  as  faithful  and  discreet  as  a  good  Toledo 
blade ;  he  never  laughed,  beyond  what  was  absolutely 
necessary ;  one  hardly  heard  him  speak  three  words  in  a 
month;  robust  in  form,  haughty  in  aspect,  bilious  in 
temperament, — who  knows  what  ever  passed  in  the  mind 
of  such  a  man  ?  He  was  as  secret  as  the  grave. 

"  My  Lady,"  he  said,  bowing. 

"  Don  Inigo,  our  page,  Lelio,  has  expressed  a  wish  to 
return  to  the  home  of  his  aged  parents,  and  it  does  not 
seem  right  in  us  to  oppose  so  natural  a  desire.  His 
mother,  poor  woman !  who  knows  with  how  many  pray- 
ers she  recalls  him,  and  it  would  seem  cruelty  to  ivfuse 
her  this  consolation.  She  will  see  her  son  improved  in 
every  kind  of  accomplishment  that  is  required  in  a  gentle- 
man ;  she  will  see  him  honorable,  honest,  and,  above  all, 


Homicide.  89 

innocent,  and  may  he  be  the  pride  of  her  life.  Don 
Inigo,  you  will  accompany  Lelio  to  Fermo,  and  say  to 
his  parents  that  he  has  always  been  a  good  and  honest 
page,  that  he  leaves  with  us  the  loving  memory  of  a  son, 
that  in  anything  wherein  my  influence  can  aid  him,  it 
shall  be  my  pleasure  to  exert  it :  assure  his  mother  espe- 
cially that  depraved  habits  have  no  power  over  him,  that 
I  complain  of  nothing  in  the  youth,  except  certain  boy- 
ish faults,  too  bold,  but  which  time  will  surely  remedy, 
because  they  are  boyish  ones ;  nevertheless,  I  advise  her 
to  select  from  among  the  young  ladies  of  Fermo,  one 
who,  by  her  beauty,  her  sweet  manners,  and  tender 
love,  may  subdue  a  spirit  of  too  much  ardor,  a  heart 
that  is  not  without  some  passion.  You  will  take  with 
you,  Inigo,  his  white  jennet,  with  all  its  crimson-velvet 
trappings,  his  clothes,  and  everything  that  belongs  to  him, 
so  that  nothing  of  his  may  remain  with  us,  that  we  have 
given  him  or  intend  to  give.  From  the  wardrobe  of 
the  Duke,  our  husband,  select  a  chain,  and  a  medallion 
to  be  affixed  to  his  cap,  and  put  it  in  his  valise ;  also  a 
hundred  gold  sequins,  and  an  ample  certificate  showing 
his  valued  services,  which  you  will  sign  and  seal  with 
our  ducal  signet.  If  the  youth  should  not  be  well,  take 
one  of  our  coaches,  and  in  our  name  take  the  post-horses, 
which  will  be  given  you,  and  set  out  at  any  rate.  To- 
morrow's sun  must  not  see  you  in  Florence.  Adieu ! " 

She  then  raised  her  right  hand,  and  gave  the  signal 
with  which  pride  waves  humility  to  depart.  But,  as  if 
anxkms  to  soften  the  harshness  of  the  act,  she  added : 

"  Go,  Lelio,  we  shall  ever  wish  you  happiness,  and  be 
most  glad  to  hear  of  your  prosperity." 

Don  Inigo  could  not  understand  the  necessity  of  wast- 


90  Isabella  Orsini. 

ing  so  many  words  upon  so  small  a  matter,  deeming  the 
word — "  Go,"  sufficient ;  except  what  was  requisite  con- 
cerning the  horse,  the  sequins,  the  medallion  and  chain  ; 
but,  before  troubling  himself  with  all  this  conversation, 
he  had  resolved  not  to  pay  any  attention  to  it.  Lelio, 
with  downcast  face,  his  body  bent,  as  if  broken  by  the 
weight  of  sorrow  that  was  laid  upon  him,  followed  the 
major-domo  like  a  criminal  following  the  executioner 
who  leads  him  to  death. 

Isabella  gazed  after  him,  until  the  door  closed  and  hid 
him  from  her  sight,  then  striking  both  hands  upon  her 
head,  exclaimed: 

"  Ah,  unfortunate  woman  that  I  am !  How  many  are 
made  unhappy  for  me  ! " 

Isabella  remained  alone  in  the  room,  which  was  her 
bridal  chamber.  The  room  was  divided  into  two  parts ; 
one  had  three  windows  looking  upon  a  spacious  terrace, 
and  hung  with  green  damask  curtains,  embroidered  with 
the  Medici  and  Orsini  arms ;  around  the  room,  at  equal 
distances,  were  some  medallions  in  bas-relief  of  marble 
in  large  gilded  frames,  representing  portraits  of  different 
members  of  the  family ;  two  doors  opposite  each  other, 
at  the  further  extremity  of  the  room,  had  large  pilasters 
of  marble,  and  over  each  door  a  triangular  cornice,  in 
the  centre  of  which  stood  a  bust  made  of  different  kinds 
of  marble,  the  head  being  white,  the  remainder  varie- 
gated, while  the  door  beneath  was  hung  with  two  cur- 
tains fringed  with  gold ;  in  the  corners  were  two  large 
blue  Chinese,  or  rather  Japanese,  vases,  with  large 
carved  heads  for  handles,  and  other  ornaments  of  silver, 
most  skilfully  worked;  placed  against  the  Avails  were 
t\vo  ebony  cabinets  beautifully  inlaid  with  mother  of 


Homicide.  91 

pearl ;  the  chairs  and  benches  were  also  of  ebony,  covered 
with  green  damask ;  in  the  centre  of  the  room  stood  a 
table  of  ebony  and  silver  of  the  same  workmanship  as 
the  cabinets.  The  first  section  terminated  in  an  arch, 
which  sprung  from  a  cornice  supported  by  columns, 
the  bases  and  capitals  of  which  were  of  gilded  bronze  of 
the  Corinthian  order,  but  the  twisted  shafts  were  fluted 
and  girded  round  with  wreaths  of  bronze  myrtle  leaves ; 
the  entrance  of  the  alcove  was  covered  by  curtains  of 
damask.  In  this  alcove  was  the  bed,  of  immense  size, 
and  loaded,  rather  than  ornamented,  with  carvings  of 
little  cupids,  leaves,  fruits,  and  feathers  enough  to  be- 
wilder one  who  lay  beneath  them ;  to  describe  the 
quantity  of  furniture,  ornaments,  and  articles  of  all  kinds, 
would  be  wearisome ;  it  is  sufficient  for  us  to  know,  that 
by  the  bedside  stood  a  table  upon  a  pedestal  two  feet 
high,  with  the  crucifix  and  the  Madonna  upon  it  on  one 
side,  and  St.  John  on  the  other ;  this  table,  by  means  of 
certain  springs,  turned  upon  hinges  fixed  in  the  wall, 
disclosing  a  secret  door,  which  led  by  a  winding  stair- 
case to  some  rooms  on  the  ground  floor,  little  frequented 
by  the  servants. 

The  shadows  of  night  had  rested  long  upon  the  earth, 
before  Isabella  called  her  maid  and  ordered  her  to  light 
the  lamp  upon  the  table,  and  then  to  retire.  Having 
asked  if  she  should  not  assist  her  in  undressing,  Isabella 
answered  shortly,  "I  will  do  it  myself;" — and  again 
dismissing  her,  went  to  the  door  and  drew  the  bolt, 
so  that  no  one  could  enter. 

A  prey  to  her  own  thoughts,  she  began  to  pace  the 
room,  with  steps  now  slow,  now  rapid :  she  stopped  for 
a  moment  and  gazed  at  the  lamp.  Of  singular  work- 


92  Isabella  Orsini. 

manship,  it  recalled  ornaments,  men,  and  times  of  which 
we  have  but  an  uncertain  account ;  it  was  of  bronze,  and 
presented  in  front  an  elephant's  head,  from  Avhose  up- 
lifted trunk  issued  the  flame ;  seen  in  profile,  it  was  a 
swan,  whose  neck  leaning  on  the  breast,  formed  the 
handle ;  the  foot  was  a  Medusa's  head  with  the  mouth 
open,  through  which  the  oil  was  poured  in ;  beneath  was 
another  large  head,  which,  with  the  other  parts  of  the 
lamp,  formed  an  ingenious  whole.  Isabella,  looking  in- 
tently at  it,  thought  less  of  the  rum  of  the  people  to 
whom  it  had  belonged,  than  of  her  mother,  who  had 
given  it  to  her,  together  with  many  other  Etruscan  anti- 
quities found  at  the  excavations  made  at  Castiglione 
della  Pescaia.  Eleonora  of  Toledo  was  indeed  a  woman 
of  cruel  temperament,  proud  spirit,  and  by  nature  little 
disposed  to  pardon ;  yet  the  mother's  heart  must  have 
been  touched  to  have  seen  her  deserted  daughter,  now, 
by  the  departure  of  Lelio,  entirely  deprived  of  any  friend 
on  whom  to  rely.  Isabella  endeavored  to  collect  her 
wandering  thoughts,  in  order  to  lead  them  to  solve  the 
present  difficulty,  but,  like  unbridled  horses,  they  over- 
came her  reasoning  powers,  and  roved  hither  and  thither 
in  a  thousand  different  directions,  as  her  varying  emo- 
tions agitated  her  brain ;  she  wearied  herself  with  seek- 
ing, but  her  mind  lay  extended  before  her,  barren  of  any 
means  of  safety,  as  an  African  desert  appears  destitute 
of  any  tree  or  shelter  to  a  caravan. 

Tired  of  this  state  of  mind  she  finally  moved  towards 
the  bed ;  she  raised  the  drapery  of  the  alcove,  and  pa^t-d 
within,  letting  it  fall  behind  her :  the  bed,  neat  beyond 
all  comparison,  had  white  sheets  from  the  looms  of  Hol- 
land, trimmed  with  Malines  lace,  and  a  dimity  counter- 


Homicide. 


93 


pane  embroidered  with  exquisite  skill ;  her  careful  maid 
had  scattered  fresh  roses  and  orange  blossoms  upon  it, 
so  that  it  seemed  indeed  a  nuptial  couch.  Isabella 
folded  down  the  sheet,  as  one  does  when  opening  a  bed 
to  lie  down ;  she  went  no  further,  however,  but  stood 
motionless  near  it. 

"  Behold,"  she  said,  after  gazing  at  it  for  some  time, 
"  my  nuptial  bed  is  as  pure  and  fresh  as  on  my  bridal 
night ;  it  is  as  white,  as  soft  as  the  breast  of  a  swan ;  yet 
is  not  the  miserable  pallet  of  a  beggar  less  contaminated 
in  the  eyes  of  God  than  this  ?  Upon  my  pillow  are  two 
sharp  points,  and  whether  I  turn  to  the  right  or  to  the 
left,  they  pierce  my  temples ; — they  are  adultery  and 
murder ;  for  these  two  thoughts  are  twin-born,  and  I 
know  it.  Here  at  the  head  of  the  bed,  stands  a  demon, 
against  whom  holy  water  is  of  no  avail ;  he  flaps  his  wings, 
and  showers  down  upon  the  sleeper  feverish  dreams  and 
fearful  fancies.  Yet  here  I  once  had  nights  of  heavenly 
rest ;  here  I  was  first  honored  with  the  title  of  mother ; 
here  taking  my  rest,  I  have  thought  that  should  my 
sleep  be  eternal,  my  soul  might  hope  to  be  received  as  a 
guest  hi  the  celestial  mansions.  I  remember  the  moment 
when  Giordano  led  me  here  from  the  altar,  and  pointing 
to  the  bed,  said : — '  My  wife,  I  intrust  this  bed  to  you, 
and  with  it  my  honor,  and  the  good  name  of  my  house. 
I,  often  employed  on  distant  embassies,  or  in  the  army, 
cannot  al  \vays  be  by  your  side  to  counsel  and  assist  you : 
assume  a  manly  spirit  for  the  time,  and  learn  to  depend 
upon  yourself;  know  that  there  is  nothing  so  necessary 
for  yourself,  so  acceptable  to  God,  so  grateful  to  me, 
and  so  honorable  to  the  children  that  may  be  born  to 
us,  as  your  chastity,  for  the  virtue  of  the  wife  is  a  crown 


94  Isabella  Orsini. 

of  glory  to  the  husband ;  the  mother's  virtue  is  the  best 
dowry  she  can  give  her  daughters,  for  a  gentleman 
always  asks,  and  with  good  reason,  whose  daughter  is 
the  woman  whom  he  seeks  for  wife ;  virtue  in  all  women 
is  more  precious  than  beauty,  for  without  virtue  and 
without  modesty,  there  can  be  no  beauty, — or  it  quickly 
passes  away.  A  lovely  face  may  be  praised,  but  lascivi- 
ous eyes  make  it  odious  with  shame  and  dishonor,  pale 
with  grief  and  wickedness  of  mind.  A  beautiful  form, 
a  handsome  face  pleases ;  but  a  bold  gesture,  a  dishonor- 
able act  of  incontinence,  quickly  renders  it  ugly  and 
vile.  Dishonor  is  hateful  to  God,  and  He  is  a  severe 
judge  of  unchastity  in  women:  it  renders  them  inlli- 
mous,  scorned,  and  ill-satisfied  throughout  their  lives. 
Nevertheless  would  you  fly  every  appearance  of  dis- 
honor, my  wife,  show  yourself  virtuous  to  all,  do 
nothing  displeasing  to  God,  to  yourself,  to  me,  and  to 
our  children,  and  you  shall  have  praise  and  gratitude 
from  all.'  Should  Giordano  now  come  to  me,  and  ask : 
— '  How  have  you  followed  my  counsels  ?  How  kept 
your  vows  ?'  Would  not  my  blushes  speak  for  me  ? 
These  walls,  this  furniture,  and  above  all,  these  holy 
images  would  cry  with  one  voice  : — We  are  polluted  ! 
We  are  polluted !  Should  I  or  could  I,  putting  aside 
all  shame,  ask  him  in  my  turn:  'How  have  you  kept 
yours  ?'  The  guilt  of  others,  though  it  may  take  away 
their  right  of  accusing,  does  not  therefore  excuse  one's 
own  guilt;  and  when  a  woman  flies  to  the  arms  of 
another  than  her  husband,  hate  for  her  husband  then 
arises,  she  cares  no  longer  for  her  children,  and  she  dis- 
solves her  family  ties,  which  in  the  husband,  compared 
to  the  wife,  are  far  less  palpable.  Besides  that,  children 


Homicide.  95 

of  shame  in  a  house  are  an  everlasting  mark  of  disgrace, 
and  they  cannot  be  expelled,  at  least  not  without  diffi- 
culty, by  law,  although  they  are  banished  from  the  heart 
by  hate,  give  rise  in  the  mind  to  the  wish  to  put  them 
out  of  the  way,  or  are  regarded  as  enemies,  and  perse- 
cuted by  the  other  children,  looked  upon  as  robbers  of 
their  substance,  punished,  degraded,  so  that  the  troubled 
spirit  of  the  mother  knows  not  whether  to  wish  that 
they  should  preserve  a  life  so  wretched,  or  whether  they 
had  better  die.  This  rarely  or  never  happens  in  men's 
faults,  which  are  committed  out  of  the  house.  The  un- 
faithful wife  contaminates  the  minds  of  all ;  already  she 
has  sown  the  seeds  of  discord;  guilt  has  engendered 
crime,  and  she  will  reap  the  penalty  of  it.  Oh  !  That 
I  had  died  before  I  lost  my  innocence!  Or  rather, 
would  that  I  had  never  been  born !  Isabella,  thou  art 
alone  ;  throw  aside  thy  family  pride,  put  off  the  haughty 
look  that  thy  royal  birth  imposes  upon  thee  in  the  pre- 
sence of  thy  people,  and,  since  misery  and  tears  belong 
to  the  wretched,  weep  now,  as  thou  canst,  for  thy  inno- 
cence, thy  safety,  thy  children,  and  thy  family,  weep  a 
deluge,  for  perchance  this  necessity  thou  feelest  for  tears 
is  the  first  token  that  God  in  His  mercy  sends,  to  show 
that  his  anger  is  softened  towards  thee  !" 

And  weeping  bitterly  she  sank  on  her  face  upon  the 
bed,  uttering  the  saddest  lament  that  ever  woman  made 
in  this  world.  She  had  lain  thus  for  some  time  when  she 
thought  that  she  heard  a  noise  of  footsteps  outside  of 
the  alcove.  She  arose  quickly,  and  lifting  the  curtain 
saw,  not  without  some  wonder  mingled  with  fear,  Lelio 
Torelli  standing  before  her.  Although  a  fatal  fore- 
boding oppressed  her,  yet  rendered  bold  by  the 


96  Isabella  Orsini. 

pressing  danger,  she  drew  herself  up  before  him,  say- 
ing— 

"  Wherefore  are  you  come  ?    What  do  you  seek  ?" 

"  I  come  to  demand  of  you  my  heart  which  you  have 
broken,  my  life  which  you  have  destroyed,  my  soul  which 
you  have  lost." 

"Ah!  Lelio,  have  pity  upon  me;  do  not  wish  to 
increase  my  sorrows,  for  they  are  already  too  heavy  for 
me  to  bear." 

"  Have  you  felt  pity  for  me  ?  You  have  broken  me 
like  a  flower  that,  carelessly  plucked  from  its  stalk  in  the 
garden,  you  scarcely  smell  and  then  throw  away.  Should 
a  Christian's  soul  be  cast  aside  like  a  withered  rose  ? 
Should  a  heart  that  beats  but  for  you  be  trampled  upon 
like  a  stone  ?  No,  no  ;  your  cruelty  has  aroused  mine, 
and  I  come" 

"  For  what,  madman  ?" 

"  I  come  to  ask  your  love  and  to  redeem  my  former 
promise.  I  come  to  seek  the  reward  of  past  sufferings." 

"  You  rave,  boy.  Of  what  promise  do  you  speak  ? 
And  who  has  caused  you  suffering  ?" 

"And  the  kisses,  the  smiles,  the  sweet  words,  the 
pressure  of  hands,  the  soft  glances — have  you  forgotten 
them  ?  I  could  not  forget  them ;  they  have  kindled  in 
my  bosom  the  flame  that  consumes  me.  But  what  are 
words  ?  What  necessity  is  there  of  speaking  ?  The  lip 
is  more  powerless  than  any  other  part  of  the  body  to 
testify  love  ;  it  says  one  thing  alone ;  but  the  face,  the 
eyes,  reveal  a  thousand  affections  at  once ;  and  it  is  with 
all  these  caresses  that  you  have  promised  me.  How 
could  you,  a  woman  of  such  great  wisdom,  believe 
my  weak  soul  strong  enough  to  resist  so  much  ?  Have 


Homicide.  97 

pity  on  me.  You  ought  to  feel  compassion  for  a 
misery  that  is  your  own  fault.  Isabella,  for  God's  sake, 
a  little  love,  one  ray  of  love  to  this  desperate" 

"What  do  I  hear,  Lelio  ?  Do  you  not  see  that  I  am 
old  enough  to  be  your  mother." 

"  What  is  that  to  me  ?  Your  face  is  beautiful.  When 
did  man  ever  love  with  a  calendar  in  his  hand  ?  Of 
what  consequence  is  time  ?  All  our  life  is  but  the  twin- 
kling of  an  eye.  Who  knows  whether  the  heavens  will 
cover  the  earth  to-morrow  ?  At  least  the  present  mo- 
ment this  fleeting  breath  may  be  comforted  with  a  little 
love.  Have  I  not  deserved  it  ?" 

"  Lelio,  do  you  not  know,  do  you  not  see  that  I  am  a 
wife  ?» 

"Did  that  prevent  you  from  giving  yourself  to 
another  ?  Why  make  an  impediment  with  me  of  what 
did  not  exist  for  another  ?  Will  you  be  chary  of  your 
afiection  to  me  when  you  have  lavished  it  in  such  abun- 
dance upon  a  man  unworthy  of  it  ?" 

"  Hear  me,  Lelio.  See,  I  will  not  be  angry  with  you, 
but  if  this  is  not  enough,  think  of  my  eternal  salvation." 

"  And  if  I  should  kill  myself  with  my  own  hands  ;  if 
I  should  be  lost  through  you,  do  you  think  that  your 
soul  could  be  saved  if  it  were  the  cause  of  my  losing 
mine  ?" 

"  I  have  sinned,  and  I  bear  the  penalty  of  my  sin,  and 
what  you  now  inflict  upon  me  is  no  less  bitter.  You  see 
me  humbled  before  you.  Where  is  my  pride  ?  Behold 
I  am  a  contrite  sinner  at  the  feet  of  my  servant.  Leave 
me  the  virtue  of  repentance.  Our  souls,  by  penitence, 
can  become  as  pure  as  baptism  makes  them." 

"  You  may  repent  afterwards ;  but  now  love  me." 
5 


98  Isabella  Orsini. 

"  I  cannot  love  you." 

"  Then  let  yourself  be  loved." 

"  What  shameless  words,  what  importunities  are 
these  ?  Go,  or  I  will  call  the  servants." 

"Bewai-e  of  attempting  to  do  so,  Isabella!  I  am 
determined  to  kill  myself,  and  to  kill" 

"Holy  Mother  of  God,  Lelio,  have  pity  on  your 
mother ;  think  of  your  own  mother  who  is  expecting 
you." 

"  My  mother !  Yes,  cruel  woman,  you  feel  pity  for 
my  mother.  You  have  taken  a  son  from  her,  and  give 
her  back  a  corpse.  I  know  neither  mother,  father,  nor 
myself,  none;  you  alone  are  my  life,  my  blood.  Isa- 
bella, have  mercy  on  Lelio ;  I  am  in  your  hands.  Do 
you  wish  me  to  be  a  hero  ?  I  will  be  one.  A  mur- 
derer ?  I  will.  Do  you  ask  me  to  throw  myself  down 
from  the  balcony  which  I  scaled  with  such  difficulty,  to 
come  to  you  ?  I  swear  to  do  it ;  but  intoxicate  me  once 
with  your  love ;  say  that  you  love  me ;  one  drop,  only 
one  drop  to  this  burning  lip." 

"  Oh !  vengeance  of  God !  How  heavily  it  strikes 
me.  My  heart  will  break  with  ngony." 

"  Hear,  whether  or  not  I  deserve  your  regard.  When 
I  saw  your  love  for  Troilo  I  loved  and  was  silent.  That 
was  not  all.  Not  to  wound  you  I  did  not  tell  you  how 
low  you  had  placed  your  affections,  nor  how  the  unwor- 
thy man  was  entangled  with  vulgar  intrigues.  For  your 
sake  I  concealed  from  the  eyes  of  all  his  vain  boasts.  I 
endeavored  no  less  to  veil  your  own  indiscretion.  You 
owe  it  to  me  that  the  report  of  your  intrigue  has  not 
reached  the  Duke's  ears.  I  surrounded  you  with  mys- 
tery, I  watched  over  you  by  night  and  by  day.  When 


Homicide.  99 

Troilo  came  creeping  in  the  dead  of  night  to  your  cham- 
ber, I  followed  him  with  noiseless  steps.  I  could  have 
killed  him  without  difficulty,  and  God  knows  how  often 
the  temptation  assailed  me ;  yet  I  did  not  do  it,  thinking 
of  the  grief  that  you  would  have  felt.  Therefore  I  went 
with  him;  I  guarded  him;  I  frightened  the  servants 
with  tales  of  a  midnight  ghost,  so  that  none  dared  to 
pass  through  the  rooms  before  daylight ;  and  I  posted 
myself  to  watch  outside  the  door,  heedless  of  sleep  or 
cold,  to  save  you  from  surprise,  to  which  your  own 
imprudence  often  laid  you  open.  Imagine  what  I  felt 
when  I  heard,  after  a  long  interview,  the  tender  adieus, 
sweet  kisses,  and  promises  to  meet  again  the  next  night ! 
All  this  I  did,  and  all  this  I  bore  for  your  love  ;  and  I 
would  have  suffered  still  in  silence  if  you  had  loved  him 
still.  But  now  you  know  him — you  know  him  to  be 
your  enemy  ;  you  have  more  to  fear  from  him  than  from 
any  one,  and  you  do  fear  him ;  and  when  I  pray  you 
now  to  love  me,  to  accept  me  as  what  you  most  need,  a 

protector,  a  slave — hi  short,  everything  for  your" 

"  Lelio,  my  son,  be  calm ;  I,  with  deep  blushes,  under- 
stand the  depth  of  your  love ;  even  after  death,  I  will 
preserve  a  memory  of  you ;  you  love  more  than  men 
usually  do ;  but  listen  to  the  prayer  of  one  fallen  into  a 
gulf  of  misery  ;  listen  as  if  your  mother  was  speaking  ; 
have  pity  upon  me,  hear  the  prayer  a  dying  woman 
makes  you  from  her  inmost  heart,  for  I  know  that  I 
have  not  long  to  live,  nor  does  the  knowledge  grieve 
me.  Some  day  you  will  be  glad  that  you  showed  me 
mercy :  on  your  death-bed,  when  the  mind's  eye  sees 
life  passing  away,  when  the  soul  pants  in  doubt  whether, 
in  its  search,  it  can  discern  a  hope  of  salvation,  the  holy 


loo  Isabella  Orsini. 

deed  you  now  do  me,  will  then  shine  forth,  like  the  pil- 
lar of  fire  and  cloud  before  the  Israelites,  to  unveil  to 
you  the  path  to  Heaven.  Time  will  heal  this  wound  ; 
perhaps  God  tempts  your  virtue,  to  see  if  it  will  not 
come  forth  victorious,  and  already  prepares  a  reward 
equal  to  your  merits ;  the  angels  themselves  now  guard 
you.  Do  not  be  unworthy  of  what  Heaven  promises 
you.  A  good  and  virtuous  wife  and  honored  children 
in  this  life ;  and  lasting  fame  and  immortal  glory  after 
death." 

"  Siren !  Enchantress !  Sorceress !  Who  can  deny 
you  the  gift  of  imagining  or  improvising  vanities  ?  Go, 
your  heart  is  more  bronze  than  is  this  lamp.  Now  that 
you  fear  falling  into  the  power  of  others,  you  speak  flat- 
tering words  ;  before,  in  the  presence  of  Inigo,  you 
threatened  and  scorned,  nor  do  I  know  whether  you  are 
more  humble  now  than  you  were  then  insolent.  For 
then  you  railed  at  me  like  a  child ;  how  presumptuously 
you  chid  me,  as  if  you  had  not  likewise  derived  your 
origin  from  Adam  ;  nothing  that  ever  belonged  to  me, 
would  you  consent  to  keep  near  you ;  you  desired  to 
erase  me  from  your  memory,  and  if  you  could  safely, 
from  life  ;  with  the  greatest  insults  you  threw  the  neck- 
lace of  your  husband  about  my  neck,  like  the  rope  of  a 
criminal,  and  a  handful  of  money  to  heal  the  bleeding 
wounds  of  a  broken  heart.  Ah !  Let  me  silence  for  once 
the  love  that  I  feel  for  so  mean,  so  base,  so  unfeeling  a 
woman.  The  sight  of  others'  cruelty  makes  me  cruel. 
"Why  do  I  wait  longer  ?  Why  not  fly  to  declare  your 
infamy  to  the  Duke?  Why  not  give  myself  at  least  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  you  hurled  into  the  tomb  by  a  disho- 
nored and  bloody  death  ?" 


Homicide.  101 

"  Go,  accuse  me." 

"  No,  I  will  not  go  and  accuse  you ;  I  will  kill  you." 

"  Kill  me  then."  . 

"  Accuse  you !  kill  you !  And  what  good  will  that 
do  me  ?  Ah  no,  Isabella !  Your  love,  give  me  your 
love " 

"  Back !" 

"  It  is  impossible !  Impossible !  You  must  be  mine — 
one  moment — then  let  death  come — and  hell " 

Thus  speaking,  he  advanced  towards  Isabella  to  seize 
her ;  she  retreated,  and  he  followed.  Isabella,  breathless, 
saw  no  means  of  escape ;  she  tried  to  commend  herself 
to  God,  but  doubted  whether  one  so  unworthy  could  be 
heard:  she  gave  herself  up  for  lost.  Suddenly,  over 
the  shoulder  of  the  Duchess  appears  a  long,  glittering 
blade ;  it  comes  quick  as  the  lightning,  and  with  one 
cruel  thrust  penetrates  the  bosom  of  Lelio  and  passes 
through.  He  takes  one  step  back,  clutching  with  up- 
raised hands,  like  a  drowning  man,  but  cannot  utter  a 
single  word;  only  a  few  indistinct  mutterings  escape 
him  ;  the  blood,  gushing  freely  and  foamingly  from  the 
wound,  covers  the  lamp,  and  extinguishes  the  light ;  in 
the  darkness  could  be  heard  the  fall  of  the  table,  over- 
turned by  the  force  with  which  Torelli  struck  it,  and  the 
tottering,  the  sinkingj  and  rolling  on  the  floor  of  the 
unhappy  man. 

A  cry  burst  from  Isabella,  so  full  of  despairing  agony, 
that  it  would  have  drowned  any  which  Lelio  could  have 
uttered,  if  his  heart,  so  horribly  cleft  in  twain,  had  not 
deprived  him  at  the  same  moment  both  of  speech  and 
life  ;  and  she  then  fell  senseless  to  the  floor,  so  that  the 
spirit  seemed  to  have  left  her  also. 


1O2  Isabella  Orsini. 

Isabella  remained  insensible  for  a  long  time;  after- 
wards, when  partially  recovered,  a  voice  seemed  to  reach 
her  ears,  a  woman's  voice,  that  of  a  weeping  woman, 
which  said :  "  Give  me  back  my  son  :"  and,  as  she  could 
not  reply,  for  her  tongue  refused  its  utterance,  she  seem- 
ed to  hear  the  same  voice  add :  "  Be  accursed  !  The 
blood  of  her  who  has  caused  blood  to  be  shed  shall  be 
shed."  Then  Lelio  seemed  to  appear  before  her  with  a 
vacant  stare,  a  frightful  wound,  his  face  stained,  and  his 
hair  matted  with  blood  and  dust,  and  fixed  himself  before 
her,  but  spoke  not  a  word ;  for  although  she  saw  that  he 
tried  to  move  as  if  to  articulate,  he  only  succeeded  in 
giving  vent  to  a  labored  groan,  and  gathering  within  the 
hollow  of  his  hand  the  dark  blood  oozing  from  his  wound 
he  cast  it  at  her  like  a  curse  !  Then  Isabella  recovered, 
and  tried  to  sit  up :  at  first,  she  did  not  dare  to  unclose 
her  eyes ;  but  at  last,  stimulated  by  courage  or  fear, 
she  succeeded  in  opening  them.  What  was  this !  She 
was  lying  in  her  own  bed ;  the  table  was  in  the  middle 
of  the  room,  and  the  bronze  lamp  was  burning,  but  with 
a  pallid  light.  She  sprang  from  her  bed,  took  the  lamp 
and  fixed  her  eyes  anxiously  upon  it,  but  saw  no  trace 
of  blood  in  any  of  its  cavities,  nor  even  any  trace  that  it 
had  been  washed  off  and  dried,  nor  did  it  even  sec'iu  as 
if  it  had  been  refilled  with  oil.  .With  the  lamp  in  her 
hand,  although  hesitatingly,  she  approached  the  mirror 
to  see  if  her  face  were  stained  with  blood,  but  it  was  the 
same  as  usual ;  she  examined  the  table,  the  floor,  but 
behold,  ah1  was  as  neat  and  dry  as  was  wont.  She  knew 
not  what  to  think ;  she  floated  in  a  tempest  of  fancies, 
and  said  to  herself:  "  I  have  certainly  dreamed :" — and 
as  we  are  ever  inclined  to  believe  what  is  most  agreeable 


Homicide.  103 

and  advantageous,  so  Isabella  said  again,  "  It  was  a 
dream ;  a  fearful  dream  indeed !  Who  knows  how 
many  miles  distant  poor  Lelio  is  by  this  time !"  She 
had  almost  persuaded  her  mind  to  doubt  the  atrocious 
event. 

She  opened  the  windows,  and  knew  by  the  glimmering 
dawn  that  the  Ave  Maria  of  the  morning  drew  near, 
and  soon  after,  the  chapel  beh1  confirmed  this  thought ; 
and  when  the  Ave  Maria  was  ended,  and  the  bell  still 
continued  to  call  to  mass,  she  thought  that  she  would 
go  and  pray  to  God  and  His  Saints  that  a  little  comfort 
might  be  granted  to  her,  so  guilty,  it  is  true,  but  so  im- 
measurably unhappy.  The  wretched  feel  the  need  of 
prayer.  She  arranged  her  hair  with  her  own  hands, 
dressed  herself  in  a  dark  dress,  and  went  alone  to  the 
neighboring  chapel. 

Formerly  it  was  the  custom  to  bury  in  churches ;  we 
therefore  find  the  pavement  covered  with  tombstones,  in 
the  centre  of  which  are  round  locks,  often  formed  of 
bronze  rings.  Upon  these  tombstones  are  sculptured 
the  coats  of  arms  in  bas-relief  (an  impediment  to  the 
feet),  and  the  statues  of  the  deceased,  with  arms  crossed 
on  their  breasts,  wrapped  in  large  cloaks,  as  if  they  were 
sleeping,  and  the  inscriptions  which  record  the  virtues  of 
those  lying  beneath ;  although  they  testify  oftener  to  the 
piety  or  pride  of  the  living  than  to  the  virtues  of  the 
dead. 

Isabella  had  reached  one  of  these  tombstones,  and 
there  stood  motionless,  just  where  the  lock  opens,  to 
assist  at  the  divine  rites,  till  the  moment  when  the 
priest  utters  the  mysterious  words  which  have  power  to 
bring  the  God  of  Heaven  down  to  earth  ;  then  following 


104  Isabella  Orsini. 

the  example  of  the  rest,  and  more  her  own  impulse,  she 
fell  upon  her  knees,  bending  low  in  a  reverent  posture 
of  humility ;  but  the  ground  suddenly  shook  beneath 
her,  and  the  fear  of  falling  into  the  tomb  caused  her  to 
stretch  forth  her  hands  to  support  herself  by  some  person 
or  object.  She  felt  an  arm,  and  grasped  it  tightly; 
somewhat  reassured,  she  looked  up  through  the  dark- 
ness, and  recognised  Troilo  as  her  supporter,  and  in  a 
low  tone  said  to  him : 

"  Alas !  God  makes  the  very  earth  tremble  beneath 
our  sacrilegious  feet !" 

"  It  is  nothing ;  the  tomb  was  opened  to-night.  See, 
the  mortar  is  not  yet  dry." 

Isabella  thrust  her  hands  into  her  hair,  and  bit  her 
lips  hard  to  restrain  a  cry  of  anguish.  Wild  with  horror, 
she  fled  precipitately  from  the  church  ;  the  deep  shadows 
in  the  chapel  sheltering  her  movements  from  observa- 
tion, prevented  them  from  being  detected. 

It  is  said  that  this  dreadful  adventure  caused  part  of 
Isabella's  hair  to  turn  white ;  which,  though  I  do  not 
find  it  confirmed  in  the  Chronicles,  I  will  not  deny,  as  it 
is  by  no  means  incredible,  for  it  has  happened  from 
much  less  terrible  causes. 

Indeed,  when  the  sentence  of  death  was  read  to  Marie 
Antoinette,  Queen  of  France,  her  hair  became  white ; 
and  this  was  a  greater  reason.*  When  Ludovico  Sforza 
il  Moro  fell  into  the  power  of  Louis  XII.,  thinking  of 
the  heavy  offences  done  to  that  king,  his  hair  grew 
white  in  the  course  of  a  single  night  ;f  the  Lord  of 
Andelot  was  seated,  leaning  his  head  upon  his  hand 

*  The  Prisoner  of  Chillon.    Byron.  f  Abr£g6  de  Mfoeray. 


Homicide.  105 

when  he  received  the  nev^s  of  the  punishment  of  his 
brother  commanded  by  the  Duke  of  Alba,  as  an  accom- 
plice of  the  Counts  Egmont  and  Horn ;  and  all  that 
part  of  the  beard  and  eyebrow  which  was  touched  by 
his  hand,  changed  color,  and  looked  as  if  flour  had  been 
sprinkled  upon  it  ;*  and  this  seems  perhaps  an  equal 
reason.  Lastly,  Guarino,  learning  that  one  of  the  chests 
of  Grecian  manuscripts  had  been  lost,  which  he  had 
collected  with  such  great  trouble  in  Constantinople,  to 
be  carried  into  Italy,  was  so  disheartened,  that  his  hair, 
from  black,  turned  instantly  white,f  and  this  was  a 
lesser  motive.  But  souls  are  diverse,  and  mortal  events 
affect  differently  different  minds.J 

*  Montaigne,   Voyage  en  Italic,  t  L 

f  Sismondi,  Literature  of  the  South,  voL  i. 

$  Sunt  lacrymse  rerum,  et  mentes  mortalia  tangunt. — 


5* 


CHAPTER  V. 


PASQUINO. 


DON  LOPEZ. 

Valgame  el  ciclo  I  que  es  esto 
Por  que  pasan  mis  sentidos  ? 
Alma,  que  habeis  esehnchado  ? 
Ojos,  que  es  lo  que  habeia  visto  ? 
Tan  publica  es  ya  mi  afrenta 
Que  ha  llegado  a  los  oidos 
Del  Rey,  que  mucho  si  es  fuerza 
8er  los  postreros  los  mios  ? 
Hay  hombre  mas  infelice  I 
CALDEBON  DK  LA.  BABCA.    A  Secreto  Agravio  Secreta  Venganea. 


Help  me,  Heaven !    What  can  It  be 

That  my  maddened  senses  see  ? 

Soul,  what  sounds  thy  powers  affright  ? 

Eyes,  what  scene  hath  cursed  your  sight  ? 

Published  now  is  my  disgrace, 

Known  and  read  in  every  place; 

E'en  the  king  hath  hear  !  my  name 

Blasted  by  the  breath  of  shame, 

Last  of  all  the  damning  word, 

"Wretched  man  !  by  me  Is  heard. 

ERNANDO,  or  Ferdinando  del  Medici,  was  an  excellent 
Prince,  and  of  noble  mind  ;  as  the  fourth  son  of  Cosimo, 
he  was  far  from  the  hopes  of  the  throne.  He  knew  not 
what  destiny  lay  before  him,  hidden  in  the  future,  but 
he  was  certain  that  it  was  not  so  distinguished  a  lot  as 
his  great  ambition  craved,  since  Francesco  was  to  sue- 


Pasquino.  1 07 

ceed  his  father  in  the  dukedom,  Giovanni  wore  a 
Cardinal's  hat,  and  Garzia  held  the  Admiralty.  This 
state  of  inactivity  oppressed  him  so  deeply,  that  he  grew 
sick.  When  afterwards  the  accident  happened  to 
Cardinal  Giovanni  and  Don  Garzia,*  the  father,  Cosimo, 
very  eager  to  provide  for  the  establishment  of  his  family, 
exerted  his  influence  in  the  Court  of  Rome  and  obtained 
the  transfer  of  Giovanni's  hat  to  the  head  of  Ferdi- 
nando.  He  was  lying  sick  in  bed  when,  with  solemn 
ceremony,  the  red  hat  was  presented  to  him,  and  so 
powerful  was  the  action  of  gratified  ambition  upon  the 
heart  of  this  youth  of  fourteen,  that  from  that  very  day 
he  became  convalescent,  and  very  soon  regained  his 
usual  health. f  Being  sent  to  Rome  with  paternal  in- 
structions and  assisted  by  men  skilful  in  the  manage- 
ment of  affairs,  not  only  did  he  maintain,  but  succeeded 
in  increasing  at  that  Court,  the  influence  of  his  house, 
which  was  already  great.  And  in  truth,  the  histories 
of  the  times  relate  that  Pasquino  often  published  satires, 
in  which  was  written :  Cosmus  Medices  Pontifex 
Maximiis.^  Besides  the  great  political  skill  of  Cosimo, 
his  good  fortune,  in  this  as  hi  everything  else,  availed 
him  no  little,  for  Giovanni  Angiolo  dei  Medici  being 
chosen  Pope,  although  he  was  in  no  way  related  to  the 

*  The  young  Cardinal  Giovanni  dei  Medici  died  suddenly,  at 
Rosignano,  a  castle  of  the  Maremma,  while  hunting  with  his  brother, 
Don  Garzia,  in  1562.  It  was  said,  however,  that  the  Cardinal  had 
been  murdered  by  his  brother,  for  very  soon  after,  Don  Garzia  him- 
self died  suddenly,  and  it  was  reported  that  he  was  killed  by  his 
father,  Cosimo,  in  order  to  avenge  the  Cardinal's  death. 

•j-  Galluzzi,  History  of  the  Grand  Duchy,  voL  ii.  p.  271. 

\  Galluzzi,  ibid.,  vol.  ii.,  and  Ammirato,  last  voL 


io8  Isabella  Orsini. 

family  of  the  Medici  of  Florence,  yqt,  to  please  his  own 
vanity,  he  wished  to  have  it  supposed  so ;  hence,  with 
this  object,  he  lavished  incredible  favors  upon  the  family 
of  Cosimo,  electing  Giovanni  a  Cardinal,  yielding  to  him 
his  own  hat,  giving  him  his  palace  and  garden,  and 
promising  to  regard  him  as  a  son  ;  and  so  ardent  was  he 
in  carrying  out  this  idea  that  he  even  wrote  to  Cosimo  : 
"  Your  concerns  we  hold  as  our  own,  desiring  that  ours 
should  be  also  yours,  and  that  we  should  always  give 
and  receive  help  from  each  other,  and  there  will  always 
be  between  us  one  heart  and  one  mind."* 

Ferdinando  increased  this  ascendency,  partly  through 
the  sagacity  and  good  fortune  of  his  father,  partly  by 
his  own  generous  patronage  of  the  fine  arts  and  letters, 
although  these  were  then  somewhat  on  the  decline,  and 
partly  by  the  bold  readiness  which  he  manifested  on 
difficult  occasions.  Of  this  a  remarkable  instance  oc- 
curs in  the  manuscript  memoirs,  which  I  ought  not  to 
pass  over  in  silence,  namely :  going  on  a  certain  day, 
when  he  was  Cardinal,  to  pay  his  homage  to  Pope  Pius 
V.,  in  the  act  of  bowing  before  him,  he  showed  a  strong 
iron  cuirass  which  he  wore  under  the  red  dress.  The 
Pope  noticing  it,  said  pleasantly  to  him :  "  Richard 
Plantagenet,  while  warring  against  his  barons,  took 
prisoner  a  bishop,  who,  armed  with  mail,  had  fought 
against  him  more  than  any  of  his  enemies.  The  Pope 
interfering,  begged  Richard  to  restore  this  son  of  his  to 
liberty;  but  Plantagenet  sent  back  to  the  Pope  the 
bishop's  cuirass,  with  the  words  spoken  by  the  sons  of 
Jacob  when  they  showed  him  the  bloody  garment  of 

*  Galluzzi,  ibid,  vol.  i'. 


Pasquino.  109 

Joseph  :  '  Know  now  whether  this  be  thy  son's  coat  or 
no.'  Cardinal  dei  Medici,  what  dress  is  that  you  wear 
under  your  cardinal's  robe  ?"  And  Ferdinando,  strik- 
ing his  breast  and  making  his  armor  resound,  replied 
proudly :  "  Most  blessed  Father,  this  is  the  garment 
suitable  to  a  great  prince." 

But  more  than  for  all  these  things  is  the  Cardinal  to 
be  praised  for  the  wonderful  constancy  with  which,  in 
spite  of  the  great  bitterness  which  his  brother  Fran- 
cesco caused  him,  he  strove  always  to  promote  the  wel- 
fare of  his  family ;  and  indeed  Francesco  gave  him  daily 
and  strong  reasons  to  be  dissatisfied  with  him,  by  avari- 
ciously refusing  to  advance  him  money  on  his  pensions, 
of  which,  on  account  of  his  excessive  liberality,  he  was 
often  in  need,  and  by  entangling  himself  more  and  more 
with  the  love  of  the  Venetian  courtesan.  When  the  ill- 
humor  of  the  people  reached  its  climax,  on  account  of 
the  insane  conduct  of  Francesco,  who  did  not  blush, 
while  accompanying  the  funeral  of  his  wife  Giovanna, 
to  take  off  his  hat  and  salute  Bianca,  as  she  was  looking 
on  from  a  balcony  in  the  Conti  palace,*  and  who,  while 
the  ashes  of  the  royal  lady  were  yet  scarcely  cold,  se- 
cretly married  the  woman  who  had  certainly  shortened 
her  days,  Ferdinando  retired  to  Rome,  there  to  labor 
for  the  prosperity  and  honor  of  his  house. 

"When  afterwards  destiny  willed  that  he  should  as- 
cend the  throne  of  Tuscany,  he  dismissed  the  evil  coun- 
sellors of  his  brother,  and  set  himself  earnestly  to  the 
task  of  rendering  his  subjects  happy.  We  meet  with 
no  public  building,  nor  hospital,  nor  charitable  institu- 

*  Morbio,  History  of  the  Italian  Communalities,  p.  27. 


1 1  o  Isabella  Orsini. 

tion,  with  which  there  is  not  associated  the  name  of 
Ferdinando,  either  as  the  founder  or  promoter ;  but 
since  it  is  easier  to  build  a  city  than  to  create  a  senti- 
ment of  nationality,  so  he  was  not  able  to  raise  the 
fallen  spirits  of  his  people,  nor  perhaps  did  he  wish  to 
do  so,  or  rather  it  was  an  end  impossible  to  be  attained 
by  one  holding,  as  he  did,  the  rank  of  prince,  which  he 
would  not  and  could  not  relinquish.  He  endeavored, 
notwithstanding,  to  relieve  Italy  from  the  Spanish  yoke, 
and  wrote  boldly  to  the  several  Italian  states,  that,  lay- 
ing aside  all  petty  rivalry,  they  should  join  him,  and 
vindicate  their  liberties,  but  such  was  the  degradation 
into  which  they  had  fallen,  that  he  could  not  succeed, 
even  in  this ;  and  perhaps  all  attempts  would  have  been 
vain,  since  there  happen  to  nations,  as  well  as  to  indivi- 
duals, certain  moments  of  agony  in  wliich  neither  mo- 
tion nor  quiet  avails,  and  whilst  the  latter  does  not  pre- 
vent death,  the  former  hastens  it.  It  is  true,  however, 
as  I  thought  once,  and  still  believe,  that  neither  a  God 
nor  a  nation  can  remain  in  the  sepulchre ;  Christ  re- 
mained in  it  only  three  days,  but  perchance  the  days  of 
nations  are  composed  of  centuries.  And  the  Italian 
princes,  in  Ferdinando's  time,  consented  to  live,  act, 
and  breathe  at  the  will  of  Spain  ;  to  her  they  extended 
their  hands  in  supplication,  on  her  lips  and  her  looks 
they  hung.  Great  Heaven !  what  miserable  beings  were 
those  princes,  who,  like  the  mendicant  asking  a  penny, 
begged  the  liberty  to  do  evil  of  others,  of  shaving,  as  a 
most  witty  genius  used  to  say,  at  second-hand !  How 
contemptible  did  they  seem,  the  agents,  as  one  might 
say,  of  the  right  of  life  and  death !  Or  rather,  negro 
slave-drivers,  with  whips  in  their  hands.  But  enough 


Pasquino.  ill 

of  this;  Ferdinando  was  not  able  to  accomplish  his 
noble  object,  which  was  to  contract  an  alliance  with 
France ;  for  Henri  IV.  did  not  act  in  any  degree  differ- 
ently from  the  nature  of  the  French,  who,  "when  a 
favor  is  asked  of  them,  think  first  what  advantage 
they  themselves  may  derive  from  it ;  when  they  cannot 
do  you  good,  they  promise  it,  and  when  they  can,  they 
do  it  reluctantly  or  never  ;*  a  people  instinctively  gree- 
dy of  others'  possessions,  and  to  whom  theft  comes  as 
naturally  as  breathing."f  And  strangest  of  all,  the 
French,  fickle  in  everything,  have  always  shown  a  sin- 
gular persistency  in  this  habit,  of  which  even  Julius 
Caesar  gives  a  proof  in  his  histories.  The  marriage  of 
Maria  dei  Medici,  daughter  of  Francesco,  to  Henri  IV., 
brought  about  at  such  an  enormous  cost,  and  at  the 
expense  of  so  many  sacrifices  on  the  part  of  Ferdinando, 
was  to  strengthen  the  ties  of  friendship  and  blood  be- 
tween France  and  the  Medicis,  first  formed  by  the  mar- 
riage of  Catherine ;  but  banished  from  France,  expelled 
from  the  house  and  presence  of  her  son,  deprived  of 
everything,  she  perished  miserably  at  Cologne,  and  the 
pity  of  the  painter  Rubens  gave  her  burial.  Mark  what 
human  judgment  is,  in  the  power  of  fortune,  which  go- 
verns it  at  will ! 

Such  was  Ferdinando  dei  Medici,  and  it  will  not  dis- 
please my  readers,  I  hope,  that  I  have  described  him 
somewhat  at  length.  Besides,  I  have  noticed  that  most 
novel  writers  expatiate  upon  the  appearance,  and  so 
much  more  upon  the  dress  of  their  personages,  as  to 

*  Machiavelli,  On  the  Nature  of  the  French. 
f  Mackiavelli,  Sketches  cm  French  Affairs. 


U2  Isabella  Orsini. 

seem  a  race  of  tailors ;  if  you  desire  to  know  how  Fer- 
dinando  dressed  and  looked,  I  refer  you  to  the  Arsenal 
at  Leghorn,  where  you  will  see  his  marble  statue  upon 
a  pedestal  around  which  are  bound  four  bronze  slaves ; 
to  Pisa  in  the  Lungarno  at  the  head  of  the  via  Santa 
Maria,  where  his  marble  effigy  seems  desirous  to  raise 
fallen  Pisa,  which  being  of  marble  cannot  entirely  rise, 
and  remains  thus,  half-erect,  half-falling ;  and  to  the 
square  of  the  Santissima  Annunziata,  in  Florence,  where 
towers  pompously  his  equestrian  statue  cast  of  the 
bronze  plundered  from  the  fierce  Thracian,  as  it  is 
writte  i  under  the  strap  of  the  saddle.  I  thought  best 
at  this  time  to  describe  his  nature  and  habits  ;  if  I  was 
mistaken,  or  have  displeased  you,  I  entreat  pardon,  and 
continue  my  history. 

It  was  Easter  morning.  A  magnificent  cavalcade  is- 
sued from  the  Medici  palace,  and  rode  in  state  through 
the  streets  of  Rome.  Cardinal  Ferdinando  was  going 
to  pay  his  respects  to  the  Pope,  Gregory  XIII.  He 
rode  on  a  white  horse,  ornamented  with  crimson  velvet, 
with  large  tassels  of  red  silk,  while  the  flanks  of  his 
steed  were  almost  covered  by  his  cardinal's  cloak ;  by 
his  side  rode  Paolo  Giordano  Orsini,  Duke  of  Brac- 
ciano,  dressed  in  Spanish  costume,  upon  a  fiery  Roman 
horse,  and  conversing  familiarly  with  him  of  matters  of 
little  importance,  as  far  as  could  be  judged,  for  the  Car- 
dinal seemed  to  pay  slight  attention  to  him,  and  only 
from  time  to  time  nodded  his  head.  Behind  them 
came  the  gay  and  noisy  suite  of  the  Duke,  and  that  of 
the  Cardinal,  which  was  far  more  splendid ;  for  he,  fol- 
lowing the  promptings  of  his  most  generous  nature,  was 
accustomed  to  maintain  in  state  not  less  than  three  hun- 


Pasquino.  113 

dred  gentlemen,  courtiers,  and  men  renowned  for  some 
talent.  To  tell  the  truth,  rather  than  the  grave  retinue 
of  a  Cardinal,  it  resembled  the  troops  of  masqueraders, 
who  in  carnival  time  run  merry-making  through  the 
town ;  they  were  either  talking,  or  vieing  with  each 
other  in  managing  their  horses,  making  them  change 
their  pace  every  moment,  caracol,  curvet,  or  trot,  and 
exchanging  soft  glances,  smiles,  and  sometimes  even 
salutes  with  the  ladies  who  stood  on  the  balconies.  A 
rose  descended  through  the  air,  and  the  ringing  laugh- 
ter of  women  was  heard,  as  it  fell  upon  the  white  mane 
of  the  Cardinal's  horse ;  but  although  people  raised 
their  eyes  quickly,  no  one  could  discern  whence  it 
came,  for  the  windows  of  the  houses  on  both  sides  of 
the  street  were  apparently  shut.  Such  license  was  in 
some  measure  attributable  to  the  times,  and  a  little  to 
the  easy  disposition  of  the  Cardinal,  who,  young,  pow- 
erful, and  bound  by  no  sacred  order,  was  more  lenient  in 
love  affairs  than  was  becoming  to  his  dignity ;  and  the 
courtiers,  as  we  see  happening  every  day,  took  exces- 
sive advantage  of  the  laxity  of  their  master,  sure  that  if 
ever  the  Cardinal  took  it  into  his  head  to  reprove  them, 
he  would  begin  with  a  severe  countenance  and  end 
with  a  pleasant  smile. 

After  the  cavalcade,  followed  a  crowd  of  the  lower 
classes,  who  applaud  and  disapprove  equally  without 
reason,  and  who  are  always  destined,  whether  cheering 
or  hooting,  to  be  stricken  down,  until  some  day,  wea- 
ried of  hurraing  or  hissing,  they  in  their  turn  take  the 
notion  of  striking,  and  then,  may  God  guard  us  in  His 
holy  keeping !  However,  they  take  this  notion  but  sel- 
dom, and  the  passage  of  the  powerful  through  the 


114  Isabella  Orsini. 

midst  of  them,  is  like  that  of  the  swallow  among  the 
insects  of  the  air — it  eats  and  flies. 

Thus  passing  from  street  to  street,  the  cortege  arrived 
at  the  corner  of  the  palace  Caracciolo  Santo-buono, 
upon  the  ruins  of  which,  in  modern  times,  the  palace 
Braschi  has  been  built.  There  stood  at  that  time  Mar- 
forio  and  Pasquino. 

"What  is  Marforio  ?  and  what  is  Pasquino  ? 

Marforio  is  a  recumbent  colossal  statue  of  the  ocean, 
found  in  the  Forum  of  Mars,  whence  it  derives  its  name. 
Clement  XII.  had  it  transported  to  the.capitol,  and  here 
it  shows  itself  proudly  to  the  passers-by.  Pasquino  is  a 
plebeian  statue.  A  worthy  artisan,  before  whose  shop 
it  was  found,  gave  it  the  name ;  it  is  mutilated  and  of 
doubtful  identity ;  yet  all  seem  to  have  agreed  in  bap- 
tizing it  a  torso  of  Ajax :  at  any  rate,  it  represents  a 
human  being,  neither  a  God  nor  a  demigod;  and 
although  its  merits  far  surpass  those  of  Marforio,  fortune 
has  treated  it  very  differently,  for  instead  of  the  honors 
of  the  Capitol  it  came  very  near  being  thrown  into  the 
Tiber.  It  was  Adrian  VI.  who  raised  so  bitter  a  per- 
secution against  it ;  and  that  he  did  not  succeed  we  must 
thank  the  witty  courtier  who  persuaded  him,  that  from 
that  trunk  buried  in  the  mud  there  would  arise  more 
voices  than  from  a  whole  nation  of  frogs.  And  behold 
how  the  injustice  of  man  is  manifested  even  in  the  very 
busts  and  marbles ;  Marforio  in  the  Capitol,  like  a  tri- 
umphant captain,  Pasquino,  hardly  escaped  the  Tiber, 
and  having  survived  so  fearful  a  danger,  happy  if  he  be 
allowed  to  remain  walled  in  the  corner  of  the  Braschi 
palace.  Marforio,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  for- 
tunate, "for  whomsoever  fortune  exalts  she  first  plunges 


Pasquino.  115" 

into  Lethe,"*  no  longer  remembers  past  times ;  having 
been  made  a  lord,  and  splendidly  lodged,  he  has  become 
a  courtier  and  is  silent,  or  if  he  sometimes  speaks,  he 
does  it  cautiously,  and  although  a  colossus  of  marble,  he 
treads  as  lightly  as  if  he  were  walking  on  eggs ;  he 
almost  flatters ;  but  Pasquino,  without  head,  arms,  or 
legs,  exposed  to  the  winds  and  rain,  has  retained  his 
sympathy  with  the  people,  and  always  talks,  satirizes, 
and  never  loses  his  jest  happen  what  may;  after  all, 
worse  cannot  happen  to  him  than  losing  his  head,  arms, 
and  legs.  The  fair  fame  of  Marforio,  however,  has  been 
diminished,  while  Pasquino,  on  the  contrary,  has  never 
known  any  decline  of  popularity.  Marforio  is  a  deserter, 
but  Pasquino  threw  away  his  legs  so  as  not  to  fly  ;  hence 
the  people  have  forgotten  Marforio  and  increased  their 
love  for  Pasquino  ten-fold.  Marforio  in  the  Capitol,  at 
the  extremity  of  the  court  of  the  Capitoline  Museum, 
accompanied  by  the  bronze  satyrs  found  in  the  Theatre 
of  Pompey,  king  of  the  fountain  over  which  he  is  placed, 
grows  tired,  and  if  an  ocean  of  marble  could  gape,  he 
would.  Pasquino,  on  the  other  hand,  breathes  and  lives 
and  sympathizes  with  the  people ;  and  although  headless, 
speaks%  reasons,  and  reviews  accounts  better  than  those 
who  have  heads.  Indeed,  it  is  not  certain  that  to  live  in 
this  world  there  is  much  need  of  a  head  ;  witness  Pliny, 
who  asserts  that  there  are  headless  people,  called  by  him 
JSlemmii,  which,  if  it  appeared  a  marvellous  thing  at  the 
time  of  that  writer,  has  long  since  ceased  to  astonish  us. 
Pasquino  often  is  a  persecuted  Nemesis,  who  hurls  a 


*  Che  fortuna  "  qualunque  estolle,  il  tuffa  prima  in  Lete." — Ariosto, 
Satires. 


il6  Isabella  Orsini. 

blow  in  the  dark  against  the  man  who  drinks  the  tears 
of  the  people,  and  this  blow  strikes  \ipon  his  brow  more 
directly  than  the  stone  from  David's  sling ; — he  is  a 
Nemesis,  who,  collecting  the  bitter  water  that  springs 
in  the  countries  of  oppression,  pours  it  into  the  foaming 
wine  of  pride ; — he  is  a  Nemesis,  who  hides  worms  among 
the  flowers  of  vicious  pleasures ; — he  is  a  Nemesis,  who 
makes  the  cruel  fall  into  the  open  sepulchre  while  me- 
naces yet  burn  upon  his  lips ; — he  mingles  darkness  with 
terror,  peoples  dreams  with  phantoms,  fills  pillows  with 
remorse,  gives  a  voice  to  the  clod  which  conceals  the 
unknown  crime,  and  persecutes  life  with  aifliction,  death 
with  despair.  But  Pasquino's  satires  spring  too  often 
from  human  perfidy;  since  there  are  people  to  whom 
nature  has  said,  hate !  as  she  has  said  to  the  eagle,  fly ! 
and  the  man  hates  as  the  eagle  flies.  O  Lord  God,  win- 
didst  thou  create  the  serpent  that  poisons,  the  wild  l>r:ist 
that  devours,  the  upas  that  kills,  and  the  man  that  hates  ? 
Behold,  the  serene  heaven  is  a  torment  for  him,  the 
splendid  sun  an  offence,  the  limpid  lake  a  mockery,  the 
tranquil  mind  an  insult ;  he  would  wish  for  the  eye  of 
the  basilisk,  the  breath  of  the  pestilence,  the  bitumen  of 
the  asphaltum,  the  despair  of  Judas,  to  sadden  the  sere- 
nity of  the  azure  heaven,  of  the  limpid  waters,  and  of  the 
innocent  soul. 

Truth  is  the  most  brilliant  sun  in  the  diadem  of  God. 
In  the  days  of  creation  it  should  have  been  suspended 
as  the  only  luminary  in  the  firmament.  Truth  ought  to 
issue  openly  from  the  lips  of  men  like  holy  incense  from 
golden  censers.  The  work  of  darkness  ought  to  be  con- 
summated in  darkness.  Truth  ought  never  to  take  the 
form  of  falsehood.  Why  should  it  ever  assume  the  sem- 


Pasquino.  117 

blance  of  calumny  ?  The  heart  of  a  coward  may  well 
become  a  fit  resting-place  for  a  nest  of  vipers,  but  never 
the  temple  of  truth.  Truth  ought  to  be  preached  in  the 
face  of  day  from  the  lofty  places,  from  the  mountain- 
tops,  from  the  open  shores  of  the  sea.  Truth  ought  to 
be  declared  before  the  men  who  detest  it,  and  before  the 
judges  who  condemn  it  as  they  did  the  innocent  So- 
crates. Truth  has  been  burned  at  the  stake,  and  has 
sprung  like  a  Phoenix  from  its  ashes ;  Truth  has  mounted 
the  scaifold,  and  returned  to  live  in  the  severed  limbs  as 
the  polyp  lives  again  in  the  broken  fragments.  Truth 
has  never  deceived  nor  flattered  any  one,  for  she  has 
said :  "  My  name  is  martyrdom  on  earth  and  glory  in 
Heaven ;  let  him  who  wishes  follow  me,  I  am  a  stern 
life-companion."* 

"  He  that  hath  ears  to  hear  let  him  hear ;"  I  return  to 
my  story. 

Pasquino,  and  also  Marforio,  who  had  not  yet  been 
promoted  to  the  Capitol,  appeared  on  that  solemn  day 
in  the  plenitude  of  their  glory,  decked  all  around  with  a 
halo  of  satires  of  all  colors  and  dimensions;  crowds  of 
people  were  standing  reading  them  or  hearing  them 
read,  and  the  more  bitter,  satirical,  and  slanderous  the 
words  were,  the  more  fitted  to  sadden  a  heart,  or  to 
cause  despair  to  an  immortal  soul,  the  louder  they 
laughed  with  every  token  of  joy. 

The  cavalcade,  seeing  from  afar  such  a  magnificent 
shoAv,  exulted,  and  had  they  not  been  restrained  by 

*  Martirio  in  terra  appellasi, 
Gloria  si  appella  in  cielo. 

Beatrice  Tenda,  by  Tedaldi-Fores,  a  young  poet  who  died  in  the 
flower  of  his  youth. 


ii8  Isabella  Orsini. 

respect  would  have  rushed  ahead  of  the  Cardinal ;  they 
closed  together,  endeavoring  to  decipher  the  writings 
from  where  they  were ;  some  rose  on  their  stirrups,  some 
shaded  their  eyes  with  their  hands  to  read. 

"  Oh,  he  is  dressed  for  a  Sunday,"  said  the  courtiers ; 
"Pasquino  is  really  celebrating  Easter;  we  shall  hear 
some  good  jokes ;  materials  are  not  wanting ;"  and  so 
on,  so  that  their  voices  might  have  been  heard  a  mile 
distant. 

The  Cardinal,  passing  near  the  dreaded  statues,  did 
not  turn  his  head  nor  even  seem  to  glance  at  them. 
Not  so  the  courtiers,  who  fell  upon  it  like  pigeons  in  a 
field  of  grain,  neither  minding  nor  caring  if  they  knocked 
or  trampled  on  the  crowd,  who  sprang  to  the  right  and 
left  cursing  and  yelling  like  the  frogs  when  a  bull  ap- 
proaches the  margin  of  a  pond.  Why  is  it  that  this 
careless  and  noisy  young  crew  are  suddenly  silent? 
Imagine  a  flock  of  sparrows  hovering  over  the  broad  top 
of  an  oak,  and  chirping  incessantly,  fluttering  through 
the'leaves  with  restless  motions  ;  but  if  suddenly  a  falcon 
appears,  soaring  in  wide  circles  near  the  tree,  they  be- 
come so  silent  and  still,  that  they  seem  as  if  struck  by 
sudden  death,  and  shrink  and  fold  their  wings,  and  dare 
not  fly  from  bough  to  bough,  but  seek  to  hide  them- 
selves under  the  leaves :  thus  the  abashed  courtiers  con- 
tinued on  their  route  gravely  and  in  silence. 

Pasquino  had  poured  forth  a  torrent  of  malignant  sa- 
tires against  the  Cardinal,  because  he  was  reputed  the 
most  fortunate  of  all  the  Cardinals.  One  of  the  pasqui- 
nades which  was  aimed  at  him  ran  as  follows :  Marforio 
asked  Pasquino,  "  "Which  is  the  mule  that  Medici  rides 
now  ?"  And  Pasquino  answered,  "  He  rides  the  mule 


Pasquino.  1 1 9 

of  Farnese."  This  alluded  to  the  intrigue  which,  ac- 
cording to  report,  Ferdinando  had  with  Clelia,  the 
daughter  of  Cardinal  Farnese.  But  this  could  be  tole- 
rated ;  those  which  appeared  really  infamous  reflected 
upon  Francesco,  Bianca,  Isabella,  her  husband,  Eleonora 
of  Toledo,  and  Don  Piero  de  Medici,  which,  as  being 
too  shameful,  we  Avill  abstain  from  reporting. 

The  Cardinal  had  not  turned  his  head ;  but,  looking 
askance,  he  perceived  and  read  those  vituperations; 
advancing  his  horse  a  step,  he  kept  the  Duke  of  Brac- 
ciano  so  occupied  in  conversation  that  the  latter  was  not 
able  to  read  a  word.  "When  it  seemed  to  him  the  pro- 
per time,  he  called  to  one  of  his  retinue  and  gave  him 
some  orders  in  a  low  voice.  Hardly  had  the  cavalcade 
turned  the  corner  than  the  officer  turned  impetuously 
back,  spurring  his  horse.  The  crowd  had  again  collected, 
and  were  enjoying  their  brutal  pleasure,  and  praising 
Pasquino,  voting  him  by  acclamation  a  crown  of  laurel. 
Without  even  saying,  "  take  care,"  the  officer  dashed 
his  horse  into  the  midst  of  the  crowd,  who  ngain  cleared 
the  way,  and  struck  right  and  left  with  the  butt-end  of 
his  halberd  upon  the  head,  shoulders,  or  arms  of  those 
who  were  not  quick  enough  to  avoid  him,  and  reaching 
Pasquino  he  thrust  his  hand,  armed  with  the  iron  gaunt- 
let, with  such  force  against  it  that  it  shows  the  impres- 
sion to  this  day ;  he  made  a  bundle  of  all  the  papers, 
and  carried  them  off,  departing  with  the  same  fury  with 
which  he  had  come,  without  taking  the  least  notice  of 
the  crowd,  who,  as  soon  as  they  saw  him  at  a  sufficient 
distance,  raised  their  heads,  still  like  frogs,  and  vented" 
their  anger  in  screams  and  curses,  like  every  brutal 
rabble ;  it  ended,  however,  as  it  always  does,  that  he  who 


12O  Isabella  Orsini. 

received  a  bruise  applied  a  plaster  to  it,  and  he  whose 
head  was  broken  had  it  bound  up. 

The  Cardinal,  after  having  paid  his  homage  to  his 
Holiness,  returned  home  by  a  shorter  road,  and  there 
closeting  himself  within  his  study  he  wrote  a  letter  to 
his  brother,  Francesco,  without  availing  himself  of  the 
assistance  of  his  secretary,  in  which,  saying  nothing  of 
the  insults  that  were  deservedly  aimed  at  both  of  them, 
he  related  those  published  to  the  dishonor  of  their 
house,  on  account  of  the  intrigues  of  Isabella  and  Eleo- 
nora  of  Toledo,  and  advised  him  to  use  all  means  lie 
thought  best  to  cause  them  to  behave  more  modestly. 
Having  written  the  letter  he  gave  it  to  a  courier,  order- 
ing him  to  start  immediately  for  Florence,  and  as  he 
valued  his  life  to  put  the  letter  into  Francesco's  own 
hands.  This  epistle  reached  Francesco  only  too  safely, 
and  the  remorse  of  the  Cardinal  was  inexpressible,  when 
he  found  that  it  had  caused  the  mournful  events  which 
form  the  subject  of  this  narrative ;  and,  in  truth,  he  was 
wrong,  for  he  ought  not  to  have  allowed  himself  to  be 
overcome  by  hasty  passion,  knowing  as  he  did  the  cruel 
and  fierce  nature  of  his  brother,  his  dissimulation,  his 
readiness  to  imbrue  his  hands  in  blood,  and  his  Spanish 
education,  which  led  him  to  consider  it  a  point  of  honor, 
both  in  the  husband  and  in  the  brother,  to  punish  the 
guilt  of  the  wife  or  sister ;  and,  moreover,  that  he  had 
grown  up  at  the  Court  of  Philip  II.,  who,  on  account 
of  his  cruel  disposition,  had  been  surnamed,  even  in  his 
own  times,  the  Demon  of  the  South.  Enough,  fate 
willed  it  thus,  and  perhaps  it  was  not  the  first  time,  nor 
yet  the  last,  that  Pasquino  had  caused  blood  and  tears 
to  be  shed. 


Pasquino.  121 

Francesco,  on  the  receipt  of  the  letter,  read  it  twice, 
and  placed  it  carefully  in  his  bosom,  and  no  one  could 
have  discovered  from  his  pale  and  austere  face,  whether 
it  brought  good  or  bad  news ;  then  turning  to  his  sister 
and  sister-in-law  who  were  conversing  together,  he  said 
to  them :  "  His  Eminence  Cardinal  Ferdinando  is  well, 
and  sends  his  love  to  you." 

A  few  days  after,  he  sent  back  the  same  courier  of 
the  Cardinal  to  Rome,  with  a  letter,  saying :  "  that  he 
was  very  grateful  for  the  interest  which  he  took  in  the 
welfare  of  their  house,  although  unfortunately  it  con- 
cerned a  very  disagreeable  subject ;  begging  him  to  be 
assured  that  he  would  find  a  remedy  for  so  much  scan- 
dal, and  in  such  a  manner  that  his  Eminence  should  be 
satisfied ;  moreover,  as  the  case  deserved  grave  consi- 
deration, he  entreated  him,  as  he  had  done  in  all  his 
other  most  important  affairs,  still  to  favor  him  with  his 
most  prudent  counsels." 

Two  or  three  hours  after  he  had  despatched  this  cou- 
rier, he  sent  another,  ordering  him  to  take  off  his  livery, 
dress  himself  as  a  trader,  and  thus  go  incognito  to  Rome ; 
when  there  to  present  himself  to  Lord  Paolo  Giordano 
Orsini,  Duke  of  Bracciano,  to  deliver  to  him  personally 
the  letter  which  he  gave  him,  and  then  to  return  imme- 
diately without  even  stopping  in  Rome,  for  he  wished 
his  mission  there  to  remain  perfectly  secret.  The  letter 
ran  thus : 

"  Our  most  beloved  brother-in-law,  Duke  of  Brac- 
ciano.— On  the  reception  of  this,  your  Excellency  will 
start  without  delay  for  Florence,  accompanied  by  only 
one  attendant,  or  two  at  the  most.  You  will  learn  the 

6 


122  Isabella  Orsini. 

motive  of  this  summons,  which  is  a  most  urgent  one, 
from  our  own  lips,  it  being  a  matter  which  cannot  be 
intrusted  to  Avriting ;  in  the  meantime  we  inform  you 
that  this  affair,  although  somewhat  concerning  us,  re- 
gards particularly  yourself,  and  the  honor  of  your 
family.  It  would  be  best  that  you  should  acquaint  no 
one  of  your  departure,  more  especially  the  most  emi- 
nent Cardinal  Ferdinando,  our  brother.  Travel  incog- 
nito^ studiously  avoiding  recognition ;  calculate  your 
tune  so  as  to  reach  the  Roman  gate  towards  dark,  both 
you  and  your  servants  wearing  white  feathers  in  your 
caps.  You  will  find  one  who  will  admit  both  yourself 
and  the  attendants  without  giving  names,  and  we  shall 
await  you  at  the  palace. 

"  May  God  keep  you  in  His  holy  peace,  etc." 

The  Duke,  having  read  and  well  considered  this  let- 
ter, took  his  handkerchief  from  his  pocket  and  wiped 
the  perspiration  from  his  forehead:  then  he  began  to 
walk  up  and  down,  read  the  letter  once  more,  and  was 
much  disturbed. 

"I  sold  myself  as  a  slave,"  he  thought  to  himself, 
"  to  these  parvenu  merchants !  I,  a  Roman  prince  ! 
What  lineage  is  theirs  ?  From  what  did  they  spring  ? 
When  honorable  barons,  knights,  and  men  of  great 
affairs  honored  my  house,  their  ancestors  were  not 
worthy  to  hold  their  stirrups. —  On  the  reception  of 
this — with  only  one  attendant  or  two — studiously 
avoiding  recognition — try  to  enter  about  dark. — Thank 
Heaven  !  I  am  not  your  subject — order  your  own  ser- 
vants. I  shall  not  go  ;  I  am  determined  not  to  go,  and 
I  will  not." 


Pasquino.  1 23 

And  he  began  to  "walk  up  and  down  again.  In  the 
meantime  an  inward  voice,  as  if  it  came  from  a  secret 
counsellor,  humbled  him,  saying  :  "  But  he  is  your  bro- 
ther-in-law, a  crowned  prince,  who  cannot  come  to  see 
you  ;  he  is  very  powerful  and  rich,  having  great  author- 
ity at  the  Court  of  Rome.  Besides  it  concerns  you,  so 
that  it  seems  only  just  that  you  should  go  to  him,  and 
even  thank  him  if  he  shows  so  much  interest  in  your 
welfare  ;  add  to  that,  he  is  educating  your  son  Virgmio 
at  his  court,  and  will  provide  for  him,  since  you  can 
rely  very  little  on  your  own  fortune,  and  in  your  po- 
verty, in  the  universal  deluge  of  your  debts,  who  but 
he  can  be  an  ark  of  safety  to  you  ?  O  Bracciano ! 
Bracciano !  I  fear  that  you  will  become  the  prey  of 
some  fortunate  merchant,  who  after  taking  your  estates 
will  take  your  title  also — and  thus  after  having  expelled 
your  illustrious  race  from  the  castle,  will  erase  your 
name  from  the  memory  of  men.  Hence  it  seems  profit- 
able to  go,  and  keep  on  good  terms  with  this  relation 
of  mine,  for  the  love  of  my  debts.  Love !  I  ought  to 
have  said  hate;  but,  blessed  Saint  Peter,  how  can  I 
hate  debts,  since  they  were  my  swaddling-clothes  when 
I  first  came  into  this  world,  and  will  be  my  winding- 
sheet  when  I  depart  from  it !  Bernia  wrote  an  essay 
on  debt ;  he  did  wrong,  he  should  have  written  an  epic 
poem !  To  Florence  then — Titta !  Saddle  three  good 
horses ;  we  must  travel.  You  and  Cecchino  Avill  go  with 
me ;  take  ofi"  your  livery ;  put  white  feathers  in  your 
caps,  and  do  not  forget  the  cloaks.  It  is  but  a  duty 
to  take  this  poor  Cecchino  with  me ;  I  brought  him 
away  from  Florence  when  he  was  just  married  ;  and  lie 
would  be  glad  to  see  his  old  mother  and  wile  again.  I 


124  Isabella  Orsini. 

think  that  he  would  be  grateful  to  me,  or  at  least  I  ima- 
gine so,  and  this  thought  does  me  good.  These  people 
enjoy  more  than  we  do  ;  they  believe  in  love,  and  they 
love  and  see  each  other  with  pleasure,  and  separate 
with  sorrow — but  I  hardly  remember  that  I  have  a 
wife ;  indeed,  Isabella  is  a  most  beautiful  woman,  of 
lofty  mind,  and  accomplished  genius,  and  I  have  seemed 
truly  to  care  a  great  deal  for  ah1  her  merits !  I  think 
that  I  ought  to  be  very  grateful  if  am  not  hated  at 
home  ;  it  would  be  sufficient  to  be  forgotten." 

If  I  am  not  mistaken,  we  may  judge  in  some  measure 
what  Paolo  Giordano  Orsini  was  by  this  soliloquy  of 
his :  like  a  pendulum,  one  side  vice,  the  other  virtue, 
perfectly  still  and  incapable  of  motion  by  itself,  unless 
caused  to  oscillate  by  some  external  impulse.  Careless, 
prodigal,  easily  roused  to  anger,  and  as  easily  appeased ; 
but,  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  the  times  in  which  he 
lived,  more  prone  to  cruelty  than  to  compassion  ;  and 
when  he  was  instigated  by  any  one  who  knew  how  to 
incite  him,  we  can  imagine  no  enormity  in  which  he 
would  not  be  ready  to  acquiesce.  I  will  not  say  that 
he  resembled  Claudius  (who  having  caused  the  death  of 
his  wife  Messalina,  sat  down  to  dinner  soon  after,  and 
inquired,  forgetfully,  why  the  Empress  did  not  come*)  ; 
but  after  his  bloody  fits  of  passion,  that  swayed  him  at 
their  will,  he  would  be  overcome  by  such  oblivion  of 
the  crimes  which  he  had  committed,  that  they  did  not 
disturb  his  sleep,  nor  did  he  either  defer  his  banquets  or 
forget  his  balls,  but  would  be  as  cheerful  as  if  nothing 
had  happened  :  he  was  a  dissimulator,  not  by  premedi- 
tation, but  by  habit,  and  so  much  the  more  dangerous, 

*  Suetonius,  Life  of  Claudius. 


Pasquino.  125 

as  his  easy  and  frank  manners  gave  one  an  assurance  of 
a  sort  of  natural  candor. 

He  departed,  then,  from  Rome,  and  arrived  at  Flo- 
rence, where  he  was  received  in  the  manner  agreed 
upon,  and  was  introduced  soon  after  into  the  palace. 

Francesco  was  seated  at  table  hi  company  with  Bi- 
anca,  and  no  sooner  did  he  perceive  the  Duke,  than  he 
rose,  courteously  extending  his  hand,  and  kissed  him  on 
both  cheeks.  After  this  greeting,  the  Duke  approached 
Bianca,  who  did  not  move,  and  bowing  very  low,  obse- 
quiously kissed  her  hand. 

Francesco,  sitting  down  again,  said  : 

"  Giordano,  you  must  be  tired  ;  but  before  you  go  to 
rest,  sit  down,  I  beg  of  you,  and  take  some  refreshment 
with  us ;  you  see,  we  are  enfamille." 

The  Duke,  not  waiting  for  another  invitation,  sat 
down  beside  Francesco. 

Never  was  a  better  opportunity  presented  to  poet  or 
romancer  to  display  his  descriptive  powers.  Few  courts 
at  that  time,  or  perhaps  even  now,  could  boast  the  pos- 
session of  such  valuable  plate  as  the  Medici ;  even  more 
precious  from  its  workmanship  than  its  materials  ;  silver 
side-boards,  vases,  trays,  pitchers,  basins,  cups,  flasks, 
and  chandeliers,  all  wonderful  to  behold ;  but  I  pass 
them  by,  and  confine  myself  to  that  which  is  better 
suited  to  my  subject. 

The  Duke,  although  accustomed  to  Roman  profusion, 
was  astonished  at  the  enormous  abundance  of  viands, 
and  observing  more  carefully,  his  surprise  was  increased 
in  considering  the  variety  of  the  dishes :  there  were 
sparrows  minced  very  fine,  and  kneaded  with  yelks  of 
eggs  and  powdered  sugar — Indian  garlic  and  cresses — 


126  Isabella  Orsini. 

raw  onions,  German  radishes,  scallions,  and  so  forth ; 
besides  these  there  were,  preserved  in  beautiful  bottles 
of  thin  glass,  for  seasoning,  ginger,  black  pepper,  nut- 
meg, cloves,  and  the  like  ;  in  the  midst  stood  a  pyramid 
of  eggs,  and  on  all  sides  little  stews  and  dishes  of 
strange  appearance ;  every  variety  of  iced  cheeses,  in 
silver  plates,  etc. 

As  the  dishes  which  he  knew  were  not  to  his  taste, 
the  Duke  tried  some  of  those  which  he  did  not  know, 
and  it  was  well  he  did,  for  they  were  composed  of 
breasts  of  grouse,  pheasant,  partridge,  and  the  like,  but 
so  highly  seasoned  as  to  burn  his  palate,  and  to  bring 
tears  to  his  eyes ;  he  called  to  mind  Portia,  who  swal- 
lowed live  coals ;  he  could  not  understand  how  a  man 
could  li ve  upon  such  viands ;  he  asked  frequently  for 
drink  to  moderate  the  burning,  but  the  drinks  which 
they  gave  him  were  so  cold,  that  they  made  his  teeth 
and  head  ache ;  besides  that,  there  were  foaming  and 
sparkling  wines,  such  as  make  one's  brain  turn  after  the 
second  glass.  It  seemed  to  him  an  infernal  banquet, 
and  that  to  get  accustomed  to  such  meats  and  drinks, 
the  Grand  Duke  and  Duchess  must  have  endured  more 
trouble  than  Mithridates,  who  could  eat  and  drink  any 
kind  of  poison,  however  powerful  it  might  be.  In  short, 
his  natural  appetite  was  appeased,  if  not  satiated,  and 
he  remained  watching  his  brother-in-law,  who  silently 
kept  gorging  himself,  with  a  sort  of  ravenous  hunger, 
with  young  onions  seasoned  with  ginger ;  then  sud- 
denly leaving  the  onions,  he  would  take  a  boiled  egg, 
break  it,  and  pouring  into  it  a  spoonful  of  black  pepper, 
drink  it ;  then  at  the  onions  again ;  from  time  to  time 
he  ordered  "  drink."  The  valet  brought  him  a  basin  in 


Pasquino.  1 27 

which  were  a  flask  full  of  water  and  a  small  glass  of 
wine ;  Francesco,  pouring  nearly  all  the  wine  into  the 
basin,  filled  up  the  glass  with  water,  and  drank  it  at 
one  gulp.  This  dissipated  habit  was  not  a  pleasure,  but 
apparently  a  labor,  for  drops  of  perspiration  would  roll 
down  from  his  forehead,  his  eyes  looked  heavy,  he  pant- 
ed and  his  face  changed  color,  now  turning  as  red  as 
fire,  and  now  as  yellow  as  the  wax  candles  which  were 
burning  before  him.*  This  seemed  to  the  Duke,  what 
it  really  was,  a  desire  to  kill  himself,  and  he  thought 
that  it  would  have  been  better  to  have  thrown  himself 
from  the  balconies  of  his  palace.  With  this  idea  in  his 
mind  he  glanced  towards  Bianca,  and  their  eyes  meet- 
ing, they  exchanged  a  look  of  intelligence.  The  Duke 
had  meant :  "  How  is  it  possible  that  you,  who  are  so 
wary  a  woman,  allow  him  to  destroy  himself  in  such  a 
manner  ?"  And  Bianca  had  replied :  "  I  grieve  for  it, 
God  knows ;  but  you  are  aware  what  an  obstinate  man 
he  is  !  However,  I  will  try,  and  you  will  see." 

When  she  thought  it  a  good  opportunity,  with  the 
sweet  manner  which  she  knew  so  well  how  to  assume, 
she  said : 

"  Will  my  lord  and  husband  grant  me  a  favor  ?" 

"  Speak." 

"  Would  you,  for  my  sake,  be  contented  with  what 
you  have  already  eaten  of  this  raw  food,  for  I  am  afraid 
that  it  will  hurt  you  ?" 

"  Bianca,  I  have  told  you  once  before,  and  do  not 
wish  to  have  to  tell  you  a  third  tune,  that  in  my  own 

*  Candles  of  yellow  wax  were  used  at  court  until  the  time  of  the 
Grand  Duke  Ferdinand  I. :  he  changed  them  to  white,  as  we  learn 
from  a  letter  by  SoderinL 


128  Isabella  Orsini. 

house  and  in  my  own  state,  as  well  in  the  most  insigni- 
ficant as  in  the  most  important  matters,  I  wish  to  be 
absolute  Lord  and  master " 

"  Nor  do  I  wish  to  question  your  power,  for,  on  the 
contrary,  I  consider  myself  only  too  much  honored  in 
being  your  servant ;  but  for  this  once,  I  beg  of  you,  my 
love,  please  to  do  it  for  my  sake " 

And  so  saying,  she  stretched  her  hand  towards  the 
plate  to  take  it  away  from  hun.  Francesco,  maddened, 
grasped  the  arm  of  Bianca  so  strongly,  that  he  left  on 
it  the  blue  mark  of  his  fingers,  and  grinding  his  teeth 
like  a  wild  beast,  looked  fiercely  at  her  for  some  time ; 
then,  without  uttering  a  word,  he  slowly  opened  his 
hand.  Bianca  drew  back  her  arm,  not  daring  even  to 
sigh,  and  repressed  two  tears  which  were  ready  to 
start ;  humbled  and  confused,  she  knew  not  how  to 
hide  her  shame,  spite,  and  rage,  except  by  crying, 
"  Candia !" 

The  attentive  valet  immediately  placed  before  her  the 
silver  basin,  with  a  glass  of  Candia  wine  and  a  flask  of 
water.  She,  not  touching  the  water,  took  the  glass  and 
hastily  drank  the  contents.* 

*  Montaigne,  being  invited  to  dinner  by  the  Grand  Duke  Fran- 
cesco, observed  that  he  put  a  great  deal  of  water  into  his  wine,  while 
Bianca  drank  it  almost  entirely  without :  "  On  porte  a  boire  a  ce  due 
et  a  sa  femme  dans  un  bassin  od  il  y  a  un  verre  plein  de  vin  descou- 
vert,  et  une  bouteille  do  verre  pleine  d'eau ;  ils  prennent  le  verre  de 
vin,  et  en  versent  dans  le  bassin  autant  qu'il  leur  semble,  et  puis  le 
remplissent  d'eau  eux-memes,  et  rasseent  le  verre  dans  le  bassin  que 
leur  tient  1'echanson.  II  mettoit  assez  d'eau ;  ello  quasi  point.  Le 
vice  des  Allemands  de  se  servir  de  verres  grands  outre  mesure  est  ici 
au  rebours,  de  lea  avoir  extraordinairement  petits." — Voyage,  t,  ii. 
p.  59. 


Pasquino.  1 29 

It  seemed  to  the  Duke  as  if  he  were  a  guest  at  the 
table  of  Domitian,  when  he  caused  the  coffins  to  be 
carried  round  the  table,  with  the  names  of  the  guests 
inscribed  upon  them ;  he  wished  himself  a  thousand 
miles  away ;  he  thought  that  he  had  not  felt  half  so 
distressed  at  his  mother's  funeral. 

Francesco,  like  a  spiteful  boy,  wanting  to  show  how 
great  his  power  and  independence  were,  obstinately  per- 
sisted in  filling  his  mouth  with  onions  covered  with 
ginger,  drinking  peppered  eggs  and  ice-water,  until  na- 
ture, as  if  indignant  at  being  thus  maltreated,  succumbed, 
and  uttering  a  deep  sigh,  he  fell  back  heavily  in  his  chair, 
with  his  head  drooping  on  his  breast,  and  his  arms  hang- 
ing down,  exclaiming : 

"  I  can  stand  it  no  longer !" 

Bianca  and  Giordano  hastened  to  his  assistance,  and 
supported  his  head ;  his  mouth  was  open  and  distorted, 
as  if  he  had  been  struck  with  apoplexy ;  his  eyes  were 
staring  vacantly,  his  breast  heaving. 

"Call  for  Doctor  Baccio,  or  Cappelli,"  said  Bianca 
in  great  anxiety;  "go — quick — for  the  love  of  Hea- 
ven !" 

But  Francesco  grumbled : 

"  Call  no  one — water — ice — ice — a  little  air — air !" 

They  opened  all  the  balcony  windows ;  brought  him 
water  and  ice,  and  he,  dipping  both  his  hands  into  it, 
applied  them  to  his  forehead ;  then  he  poured  some  elixir 
into  a  glass  of  ice-water,  and  drinking  it,  felt  somewhat 
relieved.  Bianca,  who  until  then  had  assisted  him  with 
loving  care,  without  saying  a  word,  now  ventured  to 
ask  gently : 

"  Do  you  wish  to  go  to  bed  ?" 
6* 


130  Isabella  Orsinl. 

"  Yes, — have  it  cooled, — cool  it  yourself — let  no  one 
else  enter  here." 

And  Bianca,  with  her  own  hands,  filled  with  ice  two 
silver  coolers,  and  the  valet  having  carried  them  to  the 
bed-room,  she  placed  them  between  the  sheets,  drawing 
them  up  and  down. 

In  about  fifteen  minutes  Francesco,  who  had  remained 
sitting  hi  silence,  rose  suddenly,  and  said : 

"  Let  us  go." 

Bianca  and  Giordano  supported  him,  and  reaching  the 
bed,  he  tore,  rather  than  took  off  his  clothes,  and  laid 
himself  down.  The  Duke  then  said  very  softly : 

"  Your  Highness,  rest  yourself;  to-morrow  we  will 
speak  at  our  leisure " 

"  No ;  he  who  has  time  must  not  wait  for  tune ;  I 
feel  better.  Bianca,  retire ;  I  have  to  speak  to  Gior- 
dano of  things  which  must  remain  secret  between  him 
and  me." 

As  any  observation  would  only  have  irritated  him, 
Bianca  left  the  room  and  the  Duke  remained.  He 
seated  himself  near  the  bed,  awaiting  his  brother-in- 
law's  pleasure  to  speak  to  him.  Francesco,  after  having 
mused  for  some  time,  like  a  man  who  is  thinking  how 
to  begin,  thus  spoke  : 

"  Giordano,  listen  to  me  carefully :  it  is  useless  for 
me  to  remind  you,  that  belonging  as  you  do  to  my 
family,  you  are  as  one  of  us — nor  need  I  declare  how 
dear  your  interests  are  to  me " 

"  Your  goodness " 

"  Do  not  interrupt  me,  but  listen.  Now  in  bitterness 
of  soul,  I  have  to  acquaint  you  with  a  deed,  the  mere 
thought  of  which  makes  the  blood  rush  to  my  face — 


Pasquino.  131 

And  would  that  it  had  remained  private,  so  that  if  we 
could  not  have  pardoned,  we  might  at  least  have  con- 
cealed it :  but  no,  it  has  become  public ;  it  forms  the 
subject  of  mockery  for  my  enemies.  Giordano,  we  have 
become  the  laughing-stock  of  the  people  !"  And  paus- 
ing a  little,  he  continued :  "  The  laughing-stock  of  the 
people !  You  are  outraged  in  me ;  I  in  you.  Our  house 
is  filled  with  shame  ;  Giordano,  your  wife,  my  sister,  has 
covered  us  with  disgrace " 

"What!  Isabella!" 

"  Alas !  yes.  And  pasquinades  and  satires  are  rife 
touching  her  infidelity " 

"  By  Heaven  !  who  dared  ?  I  will  tear  his  heart  out, 
even  if  it  were  in  church " 

"  And  thus  confirm,  by  your  revenge,  what  the  insult 
has  not  proclaimed  publicly.  Be  a  man  and  curb  your 
passion.  The  traitor  is  a  relative  of  yours " 

"  Who  ?" 

"  Troilo." 

"  My  chosen  friend !  He  to  whom  I  had  intrusted 
the  safe  keeping  of  my  honor.  Ah  !" 

"  This  man,  trampling  on  the  sacred  ties  of  blood, 
this  man  has  betrayed  his  benefactor  and  friend " 

"  But  are  you  sure  of  it  ?" 

"  Are  such  things  ever  said  without  certainty  ?" 

u  And  how  is  it  possible  that  I  should  have  been 
ignorant  of  it  until  now — I,  a  miserable,  betrayed  man  ?" 

"  The  ears  of  husbands  are  always  the  last  to  hear 
their  own  shame.  A  providence  of  God  !" 

"  Francesco,  may  you  not  perhaps  have  been  de- 
ceived ?  A  prince,  however  wary,  does  not  see,  does 
not  hear  everything  for  himself." 


132  Isabella  Orsini. 

"  I  see  everything." 

This  was  not  true ;  for  if  a  prince  ever  lived  who 
trusted  implicitly  to  wicked  counsellors,  it  was  Fran- 
cesco ;  but  for  this  once  he  was  right. 

"  Come,  then,  this  deed  cannot  be  helped,  but  it  may 
be  avenged " 

"  Be  it  so." 

"  Can  any  one  hear  us  ?"  asked  Francesco,  raising 
himself  to  a  sitting  i  osture  upon  the  bed ;  and  lifting 
the  silk  curtains,  he  turned  his  searching  eye  around 
the  room.  "  Go  and  see,  Giordano,  if  the  doors  are 
shut  close.  Bianca  may  be  listening ;  I  can  live  no 
longer  with  this  woman,  and  yet  I  cannot  do  without 
her.  I  could  swear  that  this  witch  has  charmed  me. 
Would  that  I  could  break  the  spell — I  will  try " 

"  They  are  all  shut." 

"  Sit  down,  come  nearer,  and  let  us  think  of  a  re- 
medy ;  having  maturely  considered  the  subject,  it  seems 
to  me,  that  this  is  the  best  thing  to  do."  And  here, 
lowering  his  voice,  he  began  to  whisper  mysteriously, 
as  if  he  were  reciting  his  prayers.  From  time  to  time 
a  word  louder  than  the  rest  could  be  heard,  like  a  drop 
of  water  falling  from  the  roof  of  a  cave  to  the  ground, 
breaking  at  measured  intervals  the  frightful  silence. 
The  Duke  did  not  seem  a  living  being,  except  by  his 
opening  wide  his  right  hand,  and  then  clenching  it  tightly. 
Francesco,  ceasing  his  murmuring,  looked  intently  at  his 
brother-in-law,  who  stood  motionless  and  horror-stricken ; 
fianlly  he  spoke,  likewise  in  a  subdued  voice  : 

"  You  have  awakened  a  hell  in  my  heart.  And  what 
shah1  I  say  to  Virginio,  if  ever  he  should  ask  me :  Where 
is  my  mother  ?" 


Pasquino.  133 

"  Virginio  will  never  know  it ;  and  even  if  he  did,  he 
would  say  :  He  did  well.  I  am  educating  Virginio." 

"  But  do  we  not  believe,  Francesco,  that  after  death 
there  is  yet  to  be  a  judgment  ?" 

"  For  those  who  have  no  judgment.  And  we  should 
be  the  reproach  of  the  living  and  the  dead,  if  we  dared 
not  do  what  honor  imposes  upon  gentlemen.  And 
what  ?  While  I,  silencing  the  voice  of  nature,  give  up 
to  you  the  life  of  my  sister,  can  you  not  tear  from  your 
heart  a  guilty  wife  ?" 

"  She  is  not  the  mother  of  your  children.  At  any 
rate,  I  ought  not  to  be  convinced  by  your  convictions  ; 
and  even  if  I  were  willing,  I  could  not.  I  wish  to  see 
for  myself " 

"  And  if  you  should  happen  not  to  see,  would  she 
therefore  be  any  less  guilty  ?  Who  can  save  her  from 
suspicion  ?  Ca3sar  did  not  suffer  his  wife  to  be  even 
suspected." 

"But  he  did  not  kill  her.  Leave  this  affair  to  me. 
You  must  allowr  me  to  use  whatever  means  may  seem 
most  suitable " 

"  Do  so,  but  cautiously,  without  giving  rise  to  scan- 
dal, and  let  not  your  revenge  bring  to  light  more  than 
has  already  been  made  public."* 

Here  a  knock  was  heard  at  the  door,  and  Francesco 
asked  in  a  threatening  tone  : 

"  Who  is  there  ?" 

"  Don  Pietro." 

"  My  brother !    He  must  not  see  you,   Giordano. 

*  Porque  dixo  la  venganza 
Lo  quo  la  offensa  no  dixo  ? 

Calderon  de  la  Barca. 


134  Isabella  Orsini. 

Go ;  take  up  your  abode  at  the  villa  San  Marco :  the 
key  is  hanging  over  that  wardrobe  ;  you  will  find  some 
one  there  to  receive  you.  I  intrust  the  secret  to  you. 
Go,  and  when  you  have  discovered  the  hated  truth,  keep 
always  in  mind  that  you  are  a  gentleman  and  a  Chris- 
tian."* 

Giordano  was  so  overwhelmed  by  his  feelings  that  he 
could  not  utter  a  word ;  he  kissed  the  hand  of  his  bro- 
ther-in-law, and  left  the  room  by  a  door  opposite  to 
that  at  which  the  knocking  had  been  heard. 

Francesco,  having  arranged  the  sheet  which  covered 
him,  said  mildly : 

"  Come  in,  Don  Pietro." 

"  God  keep  you  in  His  guard,  your  Highness." 

"  Thank  you." 

"  I  am  here  at  the  command  of  your  Highness." 

"  And  it  seems  to  me  high  time  that  you  should  be 
here,  since  three  or  four  summons  have  been  disre- 
garded." 

"  I  feared  to  disturb  your  grave  affairs  of  state,  and 
your  Highness's  manufactory  of  porcelain  ;f  and  then,  I 
think  that  he  who  comes  in  time  always  comes  early,  as 
the  proverb  says." 

"  You  ought  to  remember  oftener,  Don  Pietro,  that 
you  are  my  subject ;  and  if  you  cannot  pay  more  regard 
to  the  authority  of  the  head  of  the  family,  you  ought 

*  These  last  words  of  Francesco  were  heard  when  he  dismissed  the 
Duke,  after  the  secret  colloquy  between  them. — MSS.  Capponi  and  my 
own. 

f  It  was  one  of  the  chief  passions  of  Francesco  to  manufacture 
most  elegant  porcelain  vases,  which  he  then  presented  to  princes  and 
great  barons. —  GaMwzzfs  HwL,  vol.  iii. 


Pasquino. 

at  least  to  respect  the  dignity  of  the  prince.  What 
are  you  doing?  Why  do  you  wander  about  the 
room  in  such  a  manner  ?  Sit  down,  and  listen  to  me 
quietly." 

"  Don  Francesco,  I  came  here  upon  your  word,  and 
because  I  know  that  Lent  does  not  come  in  July,  so  do 
not  kill  me  Avith  a  sermon " 

"  Sit  down ;  I  did  not  summon  you  on  my  account, 
but  on  your  own,  and  for  the  sake  of  your  reputation 
and  prosperity." 

"  Where  did  you  get  so  much  brotherly  love  all  at 
once  ?  Did  King  Sebastian  send  it  to  you  from  Lisbon 
with  the  galleys  of  pepper  ?*  These  tenders  of  your 
affection  ought  to  be  told  differently,  for  they  are  too 
old  now." 

"Do  I  deserve  this?  Have  I  not  given,  and  do  I 
not  give,  continual  proofs  of  loving  my  blood  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know  about  your  own,  but  certainly  you 
do  love  blood." 

"And  then  you  complain  that  we  do  not  hold  you 
in  favor,  and  fill  the  court  with  complaints,  and  write 
to  the  Cardinal  about  it.  But  how  can  I  bear  with 
you  ?  In  truth,  flying  off,  as  you  are  wont,  from  one 
thing  to  another,  you  have  thrown  me  off  the  track, 
and  I  scarcely  remember  the  reason  why  I  sent  for  you. 
And  indeed,  when  you  hear  it,  I  expect  to  see  you 
humbled,  and  your  impertinence  changed  into  miserable 
dejection." 

*  Francesco,  with  a  company  of  merchants,  carried  on  this  com- 
merce of  pepper,  and  employed  his  galleys  in  it.  This  company  had 
the  exclusive  privilege  of  selling  it  throughout  the  world. —  Galluzzfs 
History. 


136  Isabella  Orsini. 

"  My  dear  brother,  I  will  not  deny  that  you  may  suc- 
ceed in  tiring  me  to  death,  for  I  feel  already  half  used- 
up  ;  but  as  to  making  my  head  turn,  I  do  not  think 
that  you  can  do  it." 

"  "Well,  then,  you  absolve  me  from  all  considera- 
tion, so  that  I  tell  you  that  you  are  the  most  abject, 
the  most  degraded,  the  most  infamous  knight  in  all 
Christendom." 

"  Poh  !     These  are  very  big  words  ;  go  on  to  deeds." 

"  Your  wife  is  an  adulteress." 

"  I  know  it." 

"  What !  You  know  it,  and  have  not  yet  revenged 
yourself?" 

"  It  is  fated  that  we  Medici  should  never  be  fortunate 
in  our  women." 

"  What  ?  What  do  you  mean  ?"  cried  Francesco, 
starting  up  in  his  bed.  "  Of  what  fault  can  you  accuse 
the  Grand  Duchess  Giovanna !" 

"  May  God  have  her  in  His  peace,  she  was  a  saint." 

"  And  Bianca  ?" 

"  Oh  !  Bianca  !  Since  your  marriage,  I  know  not  of 
what  to  accuse  her  ;  but  before " 

"  Before,  she  did  not  belong  to  me,  and  I  have  no 
right  to  investigate  her  life  before  she  was  mine " 

"  Eh  !  Here  is  no  question  about  you ;  others  take 
this  right  for  you." 

"  When  we  threw  upon  her  our  grand-ducal  mantle 
the  woman  disappeared  and  the  princess  rose  ;  and  hav- 
ing elevated  her  to  our  seat,  we  have  regenerated  her 
in  a  baptism  of  majesty." 

"  Soap  does  not  wash  everything,  and  sometimes  the 
cloth  may  wear  out,  but  not  the  spot ;  and  you  must 


Pasquino.  137 

have  a  certain  red  stain  on  your  hands  which  all  the 
water  of  Arno  could  not  wash  away — and  this  stain 
comes  from  the  blood  of  Bonaventuri " 

"  Who  can  declare  that  I  caused  Bonaventuri  to  be 
killed  ?  If  my  father  himself  affirmed  it,  I  would  say  to 
him  :  '  You  lie  in  your  throat !  I  did  not  order,  I  did 
not  commit  the  crime' — and  I  could  swear  to  it." 

"  "What  with  ordering,  insinuating,  guessing,  hinting, 
tolerating,  feigning,  and  the  tike,  if  this  cause  had  to  be 
tried  before  worldly  judges,  the  law-gnawing  advocates 
(I  mean  the  bad  ones,  for  to  the  good  ones  I  bow  reve- 
rentially, and  profess  myself  their  most  humble  servant) 
would  find  so  many  limitations  and  distinctions,  that 
certainly  no  one  could  condemn  you ;  but  before  God, 
one  does  not  appear  through  lawyers :  do  you  suppose 
that  you  can  hide  this  stain  with  your  glove,  or  pretend 
that  it  is  a  ruby  ?" 

"  Ungrateful ! — Unkind  man !  How  much  did  my 
enemies  give  you  to  make  me  die  of  rage  ?  Are  these 
the  manners  to  be  used  before  your  lord,  who,  if  he 
willed,  could  break  you  in  two  tike  a  reed  ?  And  at  the 
very  moment,  too,  that  he  is  taking  your  interest  to 
heart,  from  a  desire  of  saving  your  reputation.  But  I 
ought  to  have  known  that  it  would  have  been  labor 
lost ;  it  would  be  as  well  to  try  to  wash  the  Pucci's 
coat-of-arms."* 

"  I  beg  pardon,  your  Highness,  I  had  no  idea  of  irri- 
tating you :  I  said  that  merely  for  talk,  being  en  fa- 
mille.  If  any  one  dared  to  speak  disrespectfully  of  your 
Highness  in  my  presence,  I  swear  to  you  on  the  word 

*  Their  escutcheon  was  a  Moor's  head. 


138  Isabella  Orsini. 

of  a  gentleman,  that  I  would  run  him  through  with  my 
sword.  Be  assured  of  this,  Francesco,  you  will  never 
have  better  friends  than  your  brothers,  and  you  never 
seem  to  care  about  it ;  you  prefer  a  Serguidi,  a  Belisario 
Vinta  to  them,  and  in  addition  to  that  you  allow  such 
men  to  ill-treat  us.  Francesco,  you  complain  of  us,  but  in 
truth  you, are  not  just.  Let  us  throw  aside  all  bitterness." 

"  Well,  then,  I  discovered  the  infamous  contaminator 
of  your  dignity,  and  have  killed  him." 

"  Poor  knight !  Well,  he  deserved  it,  but  he  was  a 
good  fellow 

"  And  who  told  you  that  he  was  a  knight  ?" 

"  Bernardino  Antinori,  whom  you  caused  to  be  hung 
in  the  prison  of  the  Bargello  ?  Who  told  me  ?  That 
is  a  curious  question  !  Who  told  me  ?  Certainly,  some 
one  who  knew.  Francesco,  allow  me  to  say  half-a-dozen 
words  in  my  own  way,  openly,  freely,  and  as  my  heart 
dictates,  although  you  may  consider  them,  as  usual,  as 
emanating  from  a  strange  brain.  We  can  do  what  we 
like,  but  with  one  condition,  which  is  this :  that  we 
must  let  people  talk.  The  persons  whom  we  employ  hi 
such  affairs  are  baseborn,  and  supported  by  iniquity ;  if 
they  could  find  some  one  who  would  throw  them  a  lar- 
ger crust  of  bread,  they  would  do  to  us,  what,  com- 
manded by  us,  they  now  do  to  others.  Do  you  hope 
for  fidelity  or  secresy  in  such  degraded  men  ?  In  ta- 
verns and  in  their  disgraceful  orgies,  they  pour  in  wine, 
and  pour  out  words  of  blood,  very  often  true,  but  oft- 
ener  a  thousand  times  exaggerated ;  and  among  the 
common  mass  of  the  people  who  know  us  little,  we  find 
accumulated  against  us  such  an  enormous  treasury  of 
hatred,  that  it  is  frightful  to  look  at." 


Pasquino.  139 

"  Have  you  finished  ?" 

"  I  will  presently.  Add  to  it  the  curse  of  the  pen. 
The  pen  is  an  infernal  invention.  I,  for  my  part,  think 
that  the  devil,  falling  down  from  heaven,  lost  the  fea- 
thers from  his  wings  by  a  thunderbolt  of  Saint  Michael, 
and  these  quills  fell  upon  the  earth,  and  men  gathered 
and  sharpened  them,  and  now  use  them  as  arrows,  poi- 
soned by  that  worst  of  venom — ink.  Who  knows  how 
many  traders  at  this  moment,  under  an  item  for  wool, 
or  an  account  of  a  transaction  in  silk,  have  registered : 

*  Item,  to-day,  the of  the  month  of A.D.  so 

and  so,  Francesco  dei  Medici  caused  the  Knight  Ber- 
nardo Antinori  to  be  strangled  for  his  intrigues  with 
Donna  Eleonora  of  Toledo,  wife  of  Don  Pietro  de 
Medici  !'*  And  besides  the  merchants,  there  are  the 
philosophers,  the  historians,  and  other  literary  men,  to 
whom  I  always  show  a  pleasant  face,  since  there  are 
no  means  of  putting  them  out  of  the  world.  These 
we  cannot  silence  ;  the  best  way  is  to  bear  with  them 
patiently,  and  by  giving  them  sometimes  flattery,  some- 
times bread,  induce  them  to  write  according  to  our 
pleasure. 

"  There  lived  no  such  Augustus  as  the  line 
Of  Yirgil  honors,  gentle,  wise,  benign : 
His  taste  in  letters  bade  a  veil  be  spread 
Before  the  blood  in  vile  proscription  shed."f 

"We  have  a  good  example  of  this  at  home,  and,  not  to 

*  In  fact  it  is  thus  registered  in  a  book  of  mercantile  records. 
f  Non  fu  si  savio,  ne  benigno  Augusto, 
Como  la  tuba  di  Yirgilio  suona : 
L'avere  avuto  in  poesia  buon  gusto 
La  proscrizione  ingiusta  gli  perdona. 


140  Isabella  Orsini. 

mention  Lorenzo  the  Magnificent,  let  our  father  teach 
us,  whose  tolerance  reached  so  far  as  to  listen  to  the 
reading  of  that  most  impertinent  history  of  Benedetto 
Varchi,  that  would  make  anybody  go  to  sleep  even 
standing  on  his  feet.  But  the  worthy  Varchi  was  so 
pleased  by  it,  that  from  that  moment  forward  he  never 
let  pass  an  opportunity  of  extolling  Cosimo  to  the  skies, 
and  comparing  him  to  Trajan,  to  Marcus  Aurelius,  and 
to  Heaven  knows  how  many  others.  But  I  notice  that 
I  am  in  danger  of  putting  you  to  sleep  ;  so  that  it  be- 
longs to  you  now  to  speak.  We  had  stopped — where  ? 
Ah  !  yes,  that  you  had  caused  the  Knight  Antinori  to 
be  hung." 

Francesco,  accustomed  by  nature  and  habit  to  serious 
conversation,  and  to  go  straight  to  the  point,  felt  his 
head  whirl  round  in  this  profusion  of  words  and  farrago 
of  thoughts.  He  was  obliged  to  collect  himself  some- 
what, and  pausing  a  few  moments,  he  continued  thus : 

"  Then,  if  you  know  of  the  infidelity  of  Donna  Eleo- 
nora,  why  does  she  live  ?" 

"  Because  if  I  should  recite  the  confiteor,  I  should 
find  that  I  had  more  sins  than  she  ;  and  also  because  I 
do  not  know  who  could  protect  me  from  her  uncle  the 
Duke  of  Alva,  and  her  brother-in-law  Toledo,  who,  be- 
tween ourselves,  are  no  saints." 

"And  are  we  not  powerful  enough  to  defend  you 
against  a  Viceroy  and  a  Duke  ?" 

"  What  can  guard  me  from  the  assassin's  poniard  ?" 

"  A  good  coat  of  mail,  a  strong  heart,  and  a  careful 
vigilance." 

"  Lorenzino  dei  Medici  took  all  these  and  other  pre- 
cautions in  Venice " 


Pasquino.  141 

"  He  took  them  not,  and  was  killed." 

"  May  be  so  ;  but  it  is  still  true,  that  the  best  defence 
consists  in  never  having  done  wrong  to  any  one." 

"  However  that  may  be,  such  infamy  is  not  to  be 
endured  :  I  would  not  bear  it — the  honor  of  our  family 
does  not  permit  it.  We  must  remove  this  disgrace 
from  us — and  it  shall  be  removed." 

"  What  advantage,  then,  am  I  to  gam  ?  Is  it  only 
for  my  welfare  that  you  worked,  thought,  and  pro- 
vided? It  is  for  your  own  sake,  then,  that  you  sent 
for  me  ?  I  shall  have  to  become  a  murderer  for  you, 
and  expose  myself  on  your  account  to  the  hatred  of  a 
most  powerful  and  vindictive  family  ?" 

"  I  care  so  little  about  their  hatred  and  revenge,  that 
I  swear  to  you  on  the  word  of  a  gentleman,  that  after 
having  drawn  up  a  process  of  the  guilt  of  this  wicked 
woman,  I  will  myself  send  it  to  King  Philip,  commu- 
nicating to  him  secretly  the  cause  and  means  of  her 
death.*  I  take  the  responsibility  upon  myself,  and 

*  "The  atrocity,"  narrates  Galluzzi.  in  his  History  of  the  Grand  Duchy 
of  Tuscany,  "  the  atrocity  of  the  deed  was  hidden  from  the  public,  and 
veiled  with  the  report  that  she  had  died  suddenly  of  disease  of  the 
heart,  to  which  the  physicians  asserted  she  had  always  been  subject. 
It  was  confided,  however,  to  King  Philip  through  the  Florentine 
ambassador,  by  means  of  a  private  letter,  of  the  1 6th  of  July,  in  the 
following  words :  '  Although  in  the  letter  mention  is  made  of  the 
accident  that  happened  to  Donna  Eleonora,  nevertheless  you  will 
state  to  His  Catholic  Majesty,  that  Don  Pietro,  our  brother,  has  him- 
self taken  her  life  on  account  of  her  treasonable  behavior,  unworthy 
of  a  lady,  and  we  notified  Don  Pietro  of  it  through  our  secretary,  and 
begged  him  to  come  here,  but  he  did  not  come,  nor  did  he  allow  our 
secretary  to  speak  to  Don  Garzia.  "\Vo  have  desired  that  his  Majesty 
should  know  the  whole  truth,  and  every  act  of  our  house,  and  par- 


142  Isabella  Orsini. 

promise  that,  if  there  should  be  any  necessity,  I  will 
declare  that  this  was  done  by  my  advice,  and  even  by 
my  express  command." 

"  Well,  then,  you  desire  that  I  should  give  up  to  you 
the  life  of  Eleonora,  and  I  will  do  it ;  a  wife  is  not 
worth  the  trouble  of  spoiling  one's  appetite ;  but  you 
also,  as  a  good  brother,  must  do  me  a  favor,  which  will 
cost  you  but  little,  and  will  do  me  a  great  deal  of  good. 
I  ask  you  to  give  me,  or  lend  me — never  to  return — 
forty  thousand  ducats :  my  Pisan  estates  do  not  yield 
me  a  ducat  this  year ;  what  with  draining,  ditching, 
and  the  like,  it  will  cost  me  a  fortune " 

"  All  deep  in  debt !  All  bankrupts  !  You,  the  Car- 
dinal, and  the  Duke  of  Bracciano  would  sink  Peru? 
Where  shall  I  obtain  so  much  money  ?" 

"  Eh  !  A  little  pressure  on  the  coffers  of  the  Repub- 
lic, and  all  is  settled.  But  you  have  no  need  of  doing 
that :  public  reports  tell  wonders ;  it  is  said  that  in 
gold  coin,  in  bullion,  and  in  precious  stones,  you  have 
accumulated  more  than  ten  millions.  If  this  is  true, 
you  are  acting  injudiciously,  for  if  you  withdraw  so 
much  money  from  commerce,  you  will  end  by  becoming 
the  prince  of  a  desert." 

"  Idle,  good-for-nothing  people !  They  do  not  know 
what  they  are  talking  about !" 

"From  public  taxes  you  gain,  your  expenses  not 
included,  three  hundred  thousand  ducats." 

ticularly  this,  for  if  we  had  not  removed  this  disgrace  from  before  us, 
we  should  not  have  thought  that  we  served  his  Majesty  well,  to 
whom,  at  the  first  opportunity,  we  shall  send  the  process  whereby  he 
may  learn  with  what  just  cause  Don  Pietro  acted.'  King  Philip  wa.s 
pleased  with  this  mark  of  confidence,  etc." 


Pasquino.  1 43 

"  Who  dares  to  calculate  my  accounts  ?" 

"Hang  arithmetic  if  you  can.  And  besides  that, 
from  your  commerce  in  leather,  jewels,  grain,  and  pep- 
per, you  gain  a  fortune " 

"  They  are  all  losing  concerns.  All  are  injuring  my 
property.  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  give  up  com- 
merce ;  perhaps — I  have  not  quite  decided  yet — I  may 
continue  in  that  of  pepper;  but  no  more  leather,  no 
more  grain  ;  who  deals  in  grain,  will  die  on  straw." 

"  You  can  do  as  you  please ;  but  will  you  give  me 
forty  thousand  ducats  ?" 

"  Good  heavens,  how  can  you  squander  so  much 
money  ?" 

"  Give  it  to  me,  for  it  is  well  spent ;  I  use  it  in  pro- 
curing friends  for  you.  I  expend  it  among  the  people, 
in  festivals,  in  banquets,  and  in  pleasures.  The  young 
men  get  accustomed  to  splendor  and  luxury;  I  ener- 
vate them ;  cow  them  down ;  enfeeble  their  souls ;  take 
away  the  dignity  of  their  minds  and  the  strength  of 
their  bodies  ;  I  prepare  for  the  seed,  and  you  can  plant 
what  you  wish." 

"  You  are  ever  the  same  strange  mortal.  You  shall 
have  the  forty  thousand  ducats ;  but  you  must  give  me 
a  mortgage  on  your  Pisan  estates,  to  restore  them  by 
instalments " 

"  Oh !  As  for  that,  I  will  give  you  as  many  bonds  as 
you  wish." 

"  Besides  that " 

"  Oh  dear !  You  will  begin  now  with  your  restric- 
tions." 

"  No ;  I  only  wish  you  to  be  ready  to  get  rid  of  your 
guilty  wife,  when  and  where  I  shall  order  you." 


144  Isabella  Orsini. 

"  Well,  I  agree  to  that.  When  shall  I  have  the  mo- 
ney ?» 

"  To-morrow." 

"  Good-night,  then.  I  must  now  go  and  do  a  little 
good.  A  lady  is  going  to  present  me  to  her  marriage- 
able daughter,  so  that  I  may  give  her  a  little  dowry. 
Then  we  shall  have  a  party  of  young  fellows  at  the  Cock 
Tavern,  that  would  put  the  devil  to  shame.  Then  we 
shall,  perhaps,  go  serenading,  and  who  knows  what 
next  ?" 

"  Don  Pietro !  Don  Pietro !  You  will  never  change 
your  habits ;  you  ought  to  think  that  we  have  to  render 
an  account  to  God  of  the  time  wasted  so  unprofitably. 
Have  on  at  least  a  good  coat  of  mail." 

"  Until  now  my  coat  of  mail  was  a  good  conscience  ; 
but  I  see  that  after  this  evening  I  shall  have  to  wear  it. 
May  God  keep  you  in  His  holy  guard."  And  so  say- 
ing, he  went  away  hastily. 

"  And  you  also.  Bianca !"  And  after  a  little  while, 
he  repeated  hi  a  louder  tone  :  "  Bianca !" 

Bianca  Cappello  entered,  panting,  as  if  she  had  come 
in  haste  from  a  distant  room. 

"  What  does  my  Lord  desire  ?" 

"  Have  you  heard  anything  of  the  conversation  that 
we  have  had  here  ?  I  dismissed  you,  not  for  my  own 
sake,  for  you  know  that  I  do  not  keep  any,  even  the 
slightest  secret  of  my  heart  from  you,  but  on  their  ac- 
count  " 

"  Whose  ?" 

"  Orsini's  and  Don  Pietro's." 

"  I  was  not  aware  that  Don  Pietro — ^-" 

"  Only  think !  I  have  been  speaking  to  them  in  refer- 


Pasquino. 

ence  to  their  wives  and  the  very  guilty  lives  \vhich  they 
lead.  I  entreated  them  to  try  a  little  salutary  strangula- 
tion, to  induce  them  to  reform :  did  you  hear  nothing  ?" 

"  Nothing." 

"Truly?  come,  you  must  have  heard  some  little  thing." 

"  Upon  my  word  I  did  not." 

"  Poh !  You  are  cross  now  on  account  of  the  re- 
proof I  gave  you  this  evening.  But  what  can  I  do  ?  I 
get  angry  so  easily,  and  afterwards  I  repent.  What  I 
have  in  my  heart,  I  have  on  my  tongue.  I  beg  your 
pardon  for  it." 

"  Oh,  my  Lord !"  replied  the  cunning  Venetian,  "  you 
statesmen  have  always  so  many  thoughts,  so  many  dis- 
quietudes in  your  heads  ;  the  fault  is  ours  who  come  to 
disturb  you :  but  we  mean  well,  and  if  we  mistake,  de- 
serve pity.  And  indeed,  it  is  not  worth  while  to  take 
pains  for  me.  You  took  me  up,  I  may  say,  from  the 
street,  and  placed  me  on  equal  footing  with  the  queens 
and  greatest  princesses  in  all  Christendom.  My  life 
consists  in  revering  and  loving  you,  and  strive  as  I  may, 
it  seems  to  me  as  if  I  never  could  love  you  enough." 

"  Good  Bianca !  Excellent  woman !  I  feel  tired  and 
wish  to  rest.  Give  me  a  glass  of  cinnamon  water. 
Thanks,  Bianca.  Now  let  us  recite  our  prayers;  the 
Litanies  will  be  enough  for  this  evening." 

Bianca  took  a  book  covered  with  crimson  velvet,  and 
clasped  with  gold ;  she  knelt  beside  the  bed,  reciting 
the  Litanies,  to  which  Francesco  replied  very  devoutly : 
"  Ora  pro  nobis." — These  being  ended,  Francesco  ut- 
tered these  words : 

"  Behold  a  day  is  about  to  end  :  we  count  them  when 
they  are  past,  when  they  are  no  longer  ours ;  a  day  is 

7 


146  Isabella  Orsini. 

now  falling  from  the  hand  of  time  into  the  immense 
ocean  of  eternity.  Before,  however,  it  is  lost  in  this 
abyss,  let  us  look  on  its  last  moment,  to  judge  what  a 
life  it  has  led.  Go,  go  in  peace,  you  also,  O  day  of  my 
life ;  take  your  departure  boldly,  and  rejoin  your  bro- 
thers, who  have  preceded  you :  you  are  free  from  tears, 
you  have  passed  innocently.  The  accusing  angel  will 
not  write  you  in  his  eternal  register.  Rather,  I  may 
safely  say,  that  if  fortune  had  woven  you  into  the  mor- 
tal web  of  Titus,  he  would  not  have  exclaimed :  'I  have 
lost  a  day !' " 

But  who  did  this  man  presume  to  deceive  ?  God  ? 
Himself? — O  human  heart,  how  dreadful  art  thou  to 
look  upon ! 

Francesco,  with  a  heap  of  onions  in  his  body,  and  two 
murders  on  his  soul,  went  to  sleep  peacefully,  "  like  a 
laborer  in  God's  vineyard." 


CHAPTER  VL 


THE   SON. 


Ma  il  bacio  della  madre,  oh  I  non  ha  part, 

E  vivon  mille  affetti  in  quello  affetto. 
Oh  I  flgli,  figli  lagrimati,  e  carl, 

Chi  piil  vi  inuoveri  la  bianca  cnna  ? 

Chi  piu  vi  sjuldera  nei  vostri  lari  ? 
Cl  apre  11  labbro  la  madre,  e  ad  una  ad  ana 

Ci  scioglie  le  parole,  e  il  primo  accento 

E:  madre. 

Ispirassioni  di  BISAZZA  da  Messina. 


A  mother's  kiss !    What  can  with  that  compare  ? 

In  that  one  word  a  thousand  loves  reside. 
O  children,  objects  of  deep  love  and  care, 

Who  will  rock  your  cradle  ?    Who  will  guide 
Your  tottering  footsteps  to  your  home  on  high  ? 

It  is  the  mother  who  our  lip  unseals, 
Loosens  the  lisping  accents  patiently, 

And  still  the  earliest  word  our  tongue  reveals 
Is  "  mother  I" 


CATHERINE  OF  FBANCE  ! — wife  of  a  king,  mother  of  a 
king, — and  nevertheless,  would  the  most  wretched 
woman  that  ever  did  or  ever  will  live,  accept  the  Em- 
pire of  France  with  the  sorrows  of  her  life,  or  her  fame 
after  death !  Daughter  of  an  abhorred  prince,  a  child, 
forsaken  and  alone,  she  fell  into  the  power  of  the  infu- 
riated republicans,  who  wished  to  avenge  in  her  the 
crimes  of  her  race,  and  to  expose  her  upon  the  walls  to 


148  Isabella  Orsini. 

the  artillery  of  her  relations,  who  certainly  would  not 
on  that  account  have  abstained  from  firing !  Not- 
Avithstanding,  bright  and  cheerful,  careless  of  present 
danger,  she  conspired  for  the  grandeur  of  her  house. 
The  heavens  bestowed  upon  her  the  instinct  and  capa- 
city for  government.  The  youthful  wife  of  Henry  II., 
she  saw  herself  neglected  for  Diane  de  Poitiers,  the  now 
elderly  mistress  of  the  king  her  husband ;  and  she  was 
silent,  and  shut  deep  in  her  heart  the  offence  to  woman, 
wife,  and  queen,  and  remained  like  a  fire,  hidden  in 
order  to  flash  out  unexpectedly,  to  dazzle  or  to  terrify 
the  world.  The  mother  of  Francis  II.,  she  saw  pre- 
ferred to  her  experience  and  gravity,  the  frivolities  of 
Marie  Stuart,  the  almost  infant  wife  of  a  child  king ;  and 
she  was  silent,  and  with  a  smile  upon  her  lips  flattered 
the  follies  of  the  royal  children,  while  she  saw  gathering 
over  their  heads  the  whirlwind  fatal  to  the  lilies  of 
France.  At  last  behold  her  the  true  Queen, — she  rules. 
Like  Niobe,  she  protects  with  her  own  mantle  the  head 
of  a  royal  child ;  doubt  not,  she  will  defend  it  more  suc- 
cessfully against  the  fury  of  factions  than  the  ancient 
Niobe  could  hers,  against  the  arrows  of  Latona's  chil- 
di-en.  What  did  the  kingdom  appear  ?  What  the  King  ? 
Charles  IX.  was  a  bird — a  bird  of  ill-omen  if  you  will — 
for  whom  a  falcon  and  a  vulture  both  stretched  forth 
their  talons.  The  Guises  declared  themselves  his  pro- 
tectors; but  can  you  imagine  a  king  who  needs  the 
protection  of  his  subjects  ?  The  Huguenots  also  wished 
to  protect  him — as  a  master  the  slave ;  and  each  of  these 
parties  was  more  powerful  than  Catherine.  The  former 
called  themselves  the  friends  of  religion  and  the  throne, 
and  committed  acts,  to  avoid  the  sight  of  which  religion 


The  Son.  149 

would  have  wished  herself  blind ;  friends  of  the  throne, 
they  composed  a  genealogy,  which  made  them  the 
descendants  of  Charlemagne,  to  expel  the  Capetians 
from  the  kingdom,  as  Capet  had  expelled  the  Carlo- 
vingians ;  finally  they  became  demagogues  and  were 
extinguished.  The  latter,  hostile  to  the  Catholic  rites, 
consented  that  Henry  IV.  should  win  Paris  by  a  mass  ;* 
hostile  to  the  throne,  they  ended  by  giving  a  king  to 
France.  It  was  not  then  for  the  king,  but  for  the  king- 
dom that  they  fought.  Catherine  had  to  fear,  not  only 
for  her  crown  but  for  her  life ;  laying  aside  the  royal 
robes,  she  and  her  sons  expected  the  mantle  of  sod  that 
is  assigned  to  the  dead.  Cruel  inheritance  prepared  by 
the  snares  of  Louis  XI.,  the  misfortunes  of  Louis  XII., 
the  follies  of  Francis  I.,  and  made  more  perilous  by  the 
doctrines  of  Luther  and  the  other  sectarians  who  fol- 
lowed him.  The  equilibrium  could  not  then,  as  now,  be 
maintained  by  gold  freely  spent,  and  votes  thrown  into 
an  urn; — there  a  river  of  blood  was  required;  there, 
instead  of  votes,  heads,  to  be  cast  into  the  urn  of  des- 
tiny ; — and  Catherine  accepted  that  inheritance  with  all 
its  consequences — ah1!  Truly,  these  are  not  such  vir- 
tues as  belong  to  women,  nor  yet  to  men ;  but  the 
beings  appointed  by  Providence  to  govern  nations  in 
such  emergencies  hardly  belong  to  human  nature  ;  souls 
of  bronze,  created  where  the  thunderbolt,  the  hurricane, 
and  the  other  scourges  of  God  arise.  Catherine  saved 
the  kingdom  of  France  from  being  rent  to  atoms  in  the 
sternest  strife  that  she  has  ever  suffered  before  or  since. 


*  When  reproached  for  so  easily  changing  his  religion,  Henry  IV. 
is  said  to  have  replied :  "  Paris  vaut  bien  une  messe." 


150  Isabella  Orsini. 

Louis  XI.  is  praised,  because,  by  cutting  off  the  heads  of 
the  hydra  of  the  feudal  system,  he  laid  the  foundation 
for  the  greatness  of  the  kingdom  ;  and  applauding  the 
end,  the  means  are  disregarded.  The  Cardinal  Richelieu 
is  praised  because  he  reduced  the  barons  finally  to  gilded 
slaves  of  the  Court.  The  Conventionalists  are  also 
praised,  because  they  wrote  in  the  blood  of  the  Giron- 
dists that  the  Republic  was  one  and  indivisible.  But 
leaving  out  these  last,  were  the  first  as  wise  as  the  world 
considers  them?  Carried  away  by  the  ardor  of  the 
undertaking,  they  strained  every  nerve  to  throw  down 
a  wall,  ignorant  of  what  it  concealed ;  behind  that  wall, 
when  broken  down,  they  found  a  wild  beast  with  sharp 
teeth,  fiery  eyes,  eager  to  rend  in  pieces,  greedy  of  spoil, 
famished  with  want,  thirsting  for  blood — in  short,  the 
goaded  people.  The  two  hostile  principles,  without  any 
intermediate  one,  which  disjoined  or  moderated  them, 
rushed  upon  each  other  one  day  and  the  second  devoured 
the  first ;  but  no  sooner  was  it  swallowed  than  it  revived 
in  its  own  bosom,  and  from  that  moment  the  devourer  has 
lam  sick,  and  will  lie — how  long  ?*  The  destinies  of  the 
world  are  held  hidden  in  the  hand  of  God.  But  it  seems 
to  me  a  strange  thing  to  think  that  Louis  XI.  and 


*  This  figure  needs  a  word  of  explanation  for  foreign  readers.  The 
two  opposing  principles  are  monarchy  and  democracy ;  the  intervening 
wall  represents  the  nobility,  •which  was  virtually  destroyed  when  the 
power  of  the  barons  was  taken  away,  thus  bringing  the  monarch  and 
the  people,  as  it  were,  face  to  face.  The  devouring  of  the  first  of  these 
principles  by  the  second  alludes  to  the  decapitation  of  Louis  XVI.,  but 
monarchy,  though  destroyed,  revived  again  in  the  person  of  Napoleon, 
a  man  of  the  people,  and  may  thus  be  said  to  have  caused  sickness 
and  weakness  in  that  principle  from  which  it  sprang. — Translator. 


The  Son.  151 

Richelieu,  the  most  despotic  of  rulers,  should  have  been 
the  fathers  of  popular  revolutions.  Catherine  dei  Me- 
dici, a  woman  with  baby  kings  in  her  arms,  with  power 
weaker  than  theirs,  indeed  without  power,  did  much 
more  for  France  than  they ;  events  did  not  allow  her  to 
be  milder,  nor  was  she  more  cruel  than  the  manners  of 
her  times,  and  I  should  like  to  be  told  if  Louis  XI.,  if 
Richelieu,  if  Francis,  if  Henry,  if  Guise,  if  Coligny  him- 
self were  any  better  than  she.  And,  nevertheless,  the 
memory  of  Catherine  dei  Medici  is  held  in  perpetual 
infamy  in  France ;  not  a  generation  but  curses  her  in 
passing,  and  imprecates  heavily  upon  her  head  the 
marble  of  the  tomb  and  the  vengeance  of  God!  It 
would  seem  almost  incredible  if  it  were  not  true,  that 
she,  a  queen,  buried  in  a  royal  tomb,  with  the  crown  and 
vesture  of  royalty,  had  not  a  single  mouth — a  mouth 
however  bribed — to  pronounce  a  venal  eulogy  over  her 
coffin.  Three  days  after  her  death  the  preacher,  Lin- 
cestre,  thus  spoke  9f  her  from  the  pulpit  to  his  hearers : 
"  The  Queen-mother  is  dead,  who,  living,  did  much  good 
and  much  evil,  and,  as  I  believe,  more  evil  than  good. 
And  now  a  difficulty  presents  itself,  which  is  to  know 
whether  the  Catholic  church  ought  to  pray  for  one  whose 
life  was  so  wicked,  and  who  so  often  upheld  heresy, 
although  they  say  that  latterly  she  was  on  our  side,  and 
did  not  consent  to  the  death  of  our  princes.  Therefore, 
I  tell  you,  that  if  you  would  wish  to  recite  a  pater  or  an 
ave  for  her,  do  it ;  let  it  go  for  what  it  is  worth ;  I  leave 
it  to  your  own  option." 

It  is  enough  :  she  appeals  from  the  judgment  of  men 
to  that  of  Him  who  cannot  err.  Meanwhile,  as  for  this 
earthly  judgment,  it  is  well  to  think  that  it  is  borne 


152  Isabella  Orsini. 

by  those  whose  powers  of  judging  may  well  be  doubted, 
and  that  Catherine,  as  an  Italian,  ought  not  to  expect 
justice  from  a  presumptuous  people,  once  only  great, 
when  a  lofty  Italian  soul*  shed  over  them  the  influ- 
ences of  his  genius. 

Catherine  dei  Medici,  Queen  of  France,  desirous  of 
saving  from  shame  the  family  from  which  she  rose,  had 
answered  Donna  Isabella's  letter,  appearing  very  will- 
ing to  give  her  shelter,  but  advising  and  entreating  her, 
with  all  speed,  to  put  her  design  into  execution ;  she 
wrote,  that  she  had  ordered  persons  to  meet  her  at  Ge- 
noa, accompany  her  to  Marseilles,  and  then  conduct  her 
with  a  strong  escort  to  Paris,  where  she  would  take 
care  to  place  her  in  safety  from  assassins  and  daggers. 
The  Knight  Lionardo  Salviati,  immediately  upon  the 
receipt  of  the  letter,  to  avoid  suspicion  and  fatal  acci- 
dents, sent  it  as  carefully  and  secretly  as  possible  to 
Isabella  by  Don  Silvano  Razzi,  a  monk  of  Camaldole, 
and  a  very  intimate  friend  of  his.  But  Isabella  had  of 
late  lost  her  natural  firmness,  and  becoming  discouraged 
and  feeling  a  presentiment  of  her  fate,  allowed  herself 
to  be  entirely  overcome  by  dejection.  The  manuscripts 
which  remain  to  us  concerning  those  wretched  events, 
speak  as  follows  :  "  But  the  scheme  did  not  succeed,  for 
it  was  not  the  will  of  the  good  God,  her  affairs  being 
too  well  known,  so  that  now  she  could  no  longer  dis- 
guise her  intentions,  and  all  knew  her  thoughts."  In 
short,  whether  she  could  not  or  would  not,  the  fact  is 
that  some  time  before  the  reply  of  Catherine  Queen  of 
France  reached  her,  she  had  dismissed  from  her  mind 
all  idea  of  flight. 

*  Napoleon. 


The  Son.  153 

The  Duchess  had  a  foster  sister;  she  had  received 
the  same  nourishment  as  a  daughter  of  the  people,  and 
happy  would  she  have  been,  if,  with  the  milk,  she  had 
imbibed  the  domestic  virtues  of  her  good  nurse !  Gift- 
ed with  an  excellent  disposition,  Isabella  always  wished 
to  retain  near  her,  her  foster  sister,  whose  name  was 
Maria,  and  loved  her  passionately.  It  seemed  as  if  she 
could  not  live  without  her ;  to  her  she  confided  the 
most  hidden  secrets  of  her  heart,  so  long  as  they  were 
such  as  she  could  reveal  without  shame  ;  but  when  they 
ceased  to  be  such,  she  began  to  shroud  herself  in  silence 
and  circumlocution  ;  much  more,  since  having  once  tried 
to  inform  Maria  of  her  feelings,  which,  although  not 
exactly  guilty,  had  begun  to  deviate  from  the  right 
path,  she  was  met  with  such  an  admonition  as  took  from 
her  all  wish  to  continue.  Maria,  although  an  excellent 
woman,  was  not  very  quick  at  observing,  yet  she  per- 
ceived only  too  Avell  that  her  lady's  heart  was  with- 
drawn from  her,  and  also  that  she  could  not  regain  it 
except  by  complying  with  her  foolish  wishes,  and  thus, 
as  it  were,  becoming  her  accomplice.  This,  neither  her 
own  religion  would  permit,  nor  the  faith  she  had  always 
had  in  her  mistress ;  and  since  she  could  devise  no  means 
of  reuniting  herself  to  her  as  she  had  been,  she  resolved 
to  leave  her  as  she  was.  The  poor  girl,  in  order  not  to 
separate  from  Isabella,  had  refused  advantageous  offers 
of  marriage,  and  to  her  praise  it  must  be  added,  had 
even  subdued  an  affection  that  she  had  felt  arising  in 
her  heart.  The  first  roses  of  her  youth  had  somewhat 
faded,  but  living  modestly  and  "  avoiding  even  the  ap- 
pearance of  evil,"  she  still  looked  young  and  hand- 
some. While  she  was  in  this  state  of  mind,  fortune 

7* 


154  Isabella  Orsini. 

threw  in  her  way  a  young  man  named  Cecchino  del 
Bandieraio,  whose  person  pleased  her,  and  even  more 
the  devoted  filial  affection  which  he  manifested  for  his 
aged  mother.  Maria,  the  sole  survivor  of  her  family, 
had  to  ask  leave  of  no  one  except  her  mistress,  who  was 
then  so  much  under  the  influence  of  her  passion,  that 
she  permitted  without  sorrow  the  departure  of  Maria, 
who  might  be  considered  the  last  anchor  of  her  salva- 
tion ;  she  even  saw  her  go  with  pleasure,  as  her  pre- 
sence had  become  a  kind  of  restraint  upon  her.  But  as 
her  truly  royal  disposition  prompted,  she  was  liberal  in 
her  gifts ;  bestowing  upon  her  in  abundance  clothes, 
furniture,  jewels,  money,  and  kind  words,  and  entreaties 
that  in  case  of  any  need,  she  would  come  to  her.  When 
the  moment  of  parting  arrived,  however,  the  old  ten- 
derness revived,  and  she  embraced  her  so  closely,  that 
it  seemed  as  if  she  could  not  let  her  go,  and  wept  bit- 
terly ;  but  an  ardent  kiss  of  love  quickly  dried  her  tears, 
and  Maria  was  soon  forgotten. 

But  Maria,  on  her  part,  could  not  forget  Isabella, 
and  never  failed  to  go  daily  to  the  palace  ;  but  she  did 
not  see  her  more  than  once  in  a  hundred  times,  for  she 
was  told  at  one  time  that  the  Duchess  could  not  be  seen, 
at  another  that  she  was  absent,  and  poor  Maria  would 
turn  away  sorrowful,  her  heart  swelling,  and  her  eyes 
filling  with  tears,  but  before  she  had  gone  half-way  down 
the  street,  she  would  find  excuses  for  Isabella,  believe 
the  reason  for  her  dismissal,  reproach  herself  for  having 
doubted  her,  and  comfort  herself  in  the  hope  that  she 
should  be  more  fortunate  the  following  day.  But  the 
following  day  it  was  the  same  thing  over  again,  and  her 
grief  was  sharpened  by  her  constantly  receiving  appli- 


The  Son. 


cations  from  persons  who  wished  her  to  obtain  for  them 
some  favor  from  Isabella.  In  vain  she  assured  them 
that  she  no  longer  possessed  any  influence  over  the 
Duchess  ;  they  did  not  believe  her,  but  thought  that 
she  wished  to  avoid  obliging  them,  and  said  to  her: 
"  We  know  perfectly  well  that  Isabella  and  you  are  one 
person  ;  one  soul  in  two  bodies  ;  whatever  pleases  you, 
she  does  ;  whatever  you  wish,  you  can  have  ;  do  not 
reject  the  prayer  of  the  widow  and  orphan,  intercede 
for  us,  and  you  will  obtain  ;  perform  this  act  of  charity, 
remember  that  you  are  one  of  the  people  ;  do  not  grow 
proud  ;  a  day  may  come  when  the  Lord  will  visit  you 
too,  and  then  how  sweet  will  it  be  to  think  of  the  good 
you  have  done  ;  and  you  can  demand  the  assistance  of 
the  people,  who  will  give  it  gladly,  that  you  may  know 
that  they  can  feel  gratitude." 

Think  what  a  sharp  stab  this  must  have  been  to  the 
heart  of  the  poor  girl  ;  but  she  tried  to  do  her  best,  and 
secretly  comforted  herself  with  the  thought  that  even  if 
the  Duchess  had  withdrawn  her  favor  from  her,  she  had 
not  forfeited  it  by  her  own  fault. 

Meanwhile  Cecchino  had  become  a  man-at-arms  of 
the  Duke,  who  had  taken  him  to  Rome.  He  was  doubt- 
ful whether  Maria  could  go  with  him  or  not,  but  con- 
sidering that  it  would  be  shameful  for  him  to  leave  his 
aged  mother  entirely  alone,  he  decided  that  she  had 
better  remain,  the  more  easily  as  he  hoped  to  be  able 
often  to  visit  his  home.  But  fate  frustrated  his  inten- 
tions, till,  hoping  vainly  from  month  to  month,  three 
years  had  passed  ;  and  in  this  interval  of  time,  to  the 
sincerest  grief  of  himself  and  his  wife,  his  mother  had 
departed  to  a  better  world.  Then  Maria  wrote  to  him, 


156  Isabella  Orsini. 

that  as  there  was  nothing  now  remaining  to  keep  her 
at  Florence,  and  as  she  had  grown  tired  of  it,  she  wished 
to  join  him  at  Rome  immediately ;  but  Cecchino,  in  re- 
ply, begged  her  to  remain,  as  the  Duke  could  not  delay 
many  days  longer  his  return  to  Florence,  and  that  they 
should  all  return  with  him  ;  and  it  did  not  appear  safe 
to  him  that  she,  a  woman,  should  venture  alone  upon 
the  journey,  while  the  roads  were  so  beset  with  large 
bands  of  banditti,  and  even  in  Rome  itself  it  was  inse- 
cure. The  good  Maria,  bearing  her  disappointment  pa- 
tiently, expected  her  husband  every  day. 

It  was  the  evening  of  the  fourth  of  July,  1576,  and 
Maria  was  spinning,  alone  and  in  silence,  after  having 
sung  several  verses  of  the  song  of  Giosafatte  and  of 
Barlaam,  and  the  whole  episode  of  the  death  of  Zerbino 
and  Isabella,  the  pathetic  fancy  of  Lodovico  Ariosto,* 
when  she  heard  a  knock  at  the  door.  She  started,  like 
one  whose  heart  has  been  watching,  sprang  to  her  feet, 
and  lifting  the  latch  of  the  door,  went  to  the  head  of  the 
stairs  with  a  light  in  her  hand,  hardly  daring  to  hope 
that  she  might  see  her  Cecchino  appear :  she  beheld, 

*  The  writings  of  Ariosto  were  at  that  time  as  "  familiar  as  house- 
hold words"  throughout  Italy ;  now,  even  his  name  is  hardly  known 
in  the  rural  districts.  Montaigne,  who  travelled  through  Italy  in  tlio 
time  of  the  Grand  Duke  Francesco,  writes  in  the  third  volume  of  his 
Travels :  "  I  wondered  particularly  at  three  things,  first,  to  see  the 
people  here  working  on  Sunday,  threshing,  preparing  grain,  cooking, 
and  spinning.  The  second,  to  see  these  peasants,  with  lutes  in  thtir 
hands,  and  even  the  shepherds  singing  the  verses  of  Ariosto.  This  is 
common  throughout  all  Italy.  The  third,  to  see  how  they  leave  their 
cut  grain  in  the  fields  for  ten  days  or  a  fortnight,  without  fear  of  their 
neighbors."  It  would  seem  that  in  those  times  the  French  were 
greater  thieves  than  the  Italians. 


The  Son.  157 

instead,  a  man  dressed  in  black,  who  entering  with  much 
caution,  closed  the  door  carefully,  and  then  began  slowly 
to  ascend  the  stairs.  Maria  felt  a  little  alarmed,  but 
she  had  too  much  spirit  to  allow  herself  to  be  overcome 
by  fear,  and  looking  more  closely  at  him,  she  recognised 
Don  Inigo,  the  taciturn  major-domo  of  the  Duchess. 

"  Good  evening,  Don  Inigo,  welcome ;  what  strange 
chance  has  brought  you  here  ?" 

Inigo,  in  words  which,  though  they  retained  nothing 
of  his  native  Spanish,  were  yet  far  from  being  good 
Italian,  replied : 

"  God  and  the  holy  Virgin  del  Pilar  keep  you,  Seiiora 
Maria,"  and  continued  to  ascend  the  stairs;  when  he 
reached  the  room  he  stopped  a  moment  to  rest,  and  then 
said: 

"  My  lady  sent  me  to  tell  you  to  go  as  cautiously  as 
possible,  towards  midnight,  to  the  secret  side-door  of  the 
palace  ;  knock  twice  and  it  will  be  opened  to  you.  You 
will  learn  the  rest  from  my  Lady,  who  begs  of  you  to 
preserve  the  utmost  secresy,  as  it  concerns  a  matter  of 
life  and  death.  Good  night." 

And  rising,  Don  Inigo  departed  as  he  had  come. 

"  Don  Inigo,  hear  me,  stop  a  moment ;  tell  me  some- 
thing more.  Oh  !  what  is  this  ?  Mother  of  God ! 
lighten  my  trouble !  If  you  know  anything  do  not 
leave  me  in  this  perplexity." 

Meanwhile,  Don  Inigo  having  reached  the  bottom  of 
the  stairs,  lifted  the  latch,  and  in  passing  the  threshold, 
turned  and  bowed  to  Maria,  then,  without  another  word, 
closed  the  door  and  disappeared. 

Left  alone,  Maria  began  to  revolve  the  matter  in  her 
mind  ;  what  it  could  be,  what  the  Duchess  could  want, 


158  Isabella  Orsini. 

whether  it  was  good  or  evil ;  at  any  rate,  there  was  some 
great  secret  hidden  beneath  it ;  then  Isabella  was  renew- 
ing her  former  confidence  in  her  ?  She  should  recover 
her  beloved  sister.  If  she  should  confide  some  pleasant 
news,  she  would  rejoice  with  her ;  if  some  distress,  she 
would  console  her ;  it  was  her  guardian  angel  that  had 
kept  her  from  going  to  Rome ;  one  ought  never  to  act 
from  impulse ;  fortune  would  at  last  repair  its  wrongs, 
the  city  would  again  honor  her,  her  friends  love  and 
respect  her  a  thousand  times  more  than  ever.  Glad- 
dened by  these  pleasant  thoughts  she  could  not  stay 
quiet,  but  wandered  about,  setting  the  house  in  order  ; 
then  she  arranged  her  hair,  dressed  herself  in  her  best, 
and  then  (I  know  not  whether  it  is  the  same  with  people 
in  other  parts  of  the  world,  but  in  Italy,  when  a  great  joy 
takes  full  possession  of  us,  we  must  break  forth  into 
song)  Maria  began  to  sing,  no  longer  Giosafatte,  or 
Barlaam,  nor  yet  the  mournful  episode  of  Zerbino  and 
Isabella,  but  the  song — 

Mountain  maidens,  bright  and  fair, 

"Whence  your  course?   Your  dwelling  where? 

Down  from  Alpine  heights  we  come — 

Near  a  grove  our  cottage  lies ; 
There  our  parents  have  their  home, 

Nature  there  our  wants  supplies ; 
Eve  recalls  us  from  the  mead 
Where  our  flocks  securely  feed,  &c.* 

*  Vaghe  lo  montanine  pastorelle, 
Donde  venite  si  leggiadre  e  belle  ? 
Vegnam  dall'  alpe  prcsso  ad  un  boschetto : 
Piccola  capannella  e  il  nostro  sito, 
Col  padre  e  con  la  madre  in  piccol  letto, 


The  Son.  159 

And  she  had  finished  all  her  preparations  so  quickly  that 
the  appointed  hour  seemed  to  fly  before  her,  like  the 
butterfly  before  the  child  who  pursues  it  so  eagerly, 
while,  fluttering  from  spray  to  spray  of  the  hedge,  it 
seems  to  mock  at  him.  Finally  the  clock  struck,  and 
Maria  listening  intently,  with  her  finger  on  her  lips, 
counted  the  strokes,  but  becoming  confused  she  lost  the 
number,  and  waited  more  carefully  for  the  repetition  of 
the  sound ;  but  this  seco'nd  tune  the  barking  of  a  dog 
hindered  her  from  hearing  all  the  strokes,  and  she 
remained  as  uncertain  of  the  hour  as  before ;  she  went 
to  the  window  to  ask  any  one  who  might  be  passing, 
but  there  was  no  one  to  be  seen ;  then  she  tried  knocking 
on  the  wall  to  ask  her  neighbor,  who,  probably  just 
awakened  out  of  sleep,  and  provoked  at  being  disturbed, 
answered  crossly :  "  I  don't  know."  Maria,  feeling  as 
if  she  were  enduring  the  tortures  of  San  Lorenzo  on  the 
burning  coals,  and  excited  by  curiosity,  determined  to 
set  out,  and,  if  too  early,  to  wait  in  the  open  air,  walking 
up  and  down,  for  from  the  intense  heat,  and  her  exces- 
sive impatience,  staying  in  the  house  seemed  a  mar- 
tyrdom that  she  could  not  possibly  endure. 

But  Isabella's  impatience  was  no  less  violent  than  her 
own,  for  when  she  reached  the  secret  door  it  was  opened 
to  her  first  knock,  and  she  saw  the  Lady  Isabella  seated 
on  the  lowest  step  of  the  stone  staircase,  pale  as  a  waxen 
image,  with  a  light  at  her  feet,  which  partially  illu- 
minated her  person.  Seeing  Maria  she  rose,  and  clasping 

Dove  natura  ci  ha  sempre  nutrito. 

Torniam  la  sera  dal  prato  fiorito, 

Che  abbiam  pasciute  nostre  pecorelle,  &c. 

POLIZIASO. 


160  Isabella  Orsini. 

her  right  hand  pressed  it  to  her  heart  in  silence ;  then 
taking  the  lamp  she  began  to  ascend  the  stairs,  lighting 
the  way  for  her. 

Reaching  her  room,  Isabella  pnt  down  the  lamp  near 
the  cradle  of  an  infant.  Marvellously  beautiful  was  the 
workmanship  of  the  cradle,  all  inlaid  with  gold ;  no  less 
so  the  velvet  counterpane  embroidered  with  beautiful 
golden  leaves,  and  the  silken  and  gold  draperies  trimmed 
with  lace  of  priceless  value.  Whoever  has  seen,  in  the 
gallery  of  the  Pitti  Palace,  the  portrait  of  the  child 
Leopoldo  dei  Medici,  who  wras  afterwards  a  cardinal, 
may  easily  form  an  idea  of  how  this  child  was  adorned ; 
but  the  most  marvellous  sight  of  all  was  the  child  itself, 
which  was  incredibly  beautiful.  Maria's  glance  fell  im- 
mediately upon  the  little  creature,  and  seeing  how 
lovely  it  was,  she  began  to  fondle  it  after  the  manner  of 
women. 

"  "Why,  who  are  you,  my  pretty  one  ?  Ges&  !  What 
a  little  darling !  Where  did  you  get  such  splendid  eyes  ? 
Could  you  tell  your  name  ?  With  wings  on  your  shoul- 
ders you  would  seem  a  little  angel  of  love.*  There, 
there,  laugh  a  little,  sweet  one,  and  show  your  dear  little 
teeth."  And  putting  her  forefinger  upon  the  dimple  in 
its  chin  she  played  with  him,  and  the  little  fellow  began 
to  laugh  merrily,  and  lifted  his  tiny  hands  to  Maria's 
face  as  if  to  return  her  caresses. 

Isabella,  silent,  but  partly  relieved  from  the  over- 
powering grief  that  had  oppressed  her,  stood  looking  at 
the  touching  scene ;  but  at  last,  as  if  roused  by  the 
urgency  of  the  case,  she  spoke : — "  Do  you  see  ?  That 

*  Mettigli  1'ale,  6  un  angiolel  di  amore. — PERTICARI. 


The  Son.  161 

beautiful  head  will  soon  be  crushed  by  a  hand  of  iron, 
or  dashed  against  the  wall,  or  else  trampled  under  foot ; 
those  eyes  will  be  torn  from  their  sockets ;  those  soft, 
white  limbs  become  a  shapeless  mass  of  bleeding 
flesh " 

"  Alas !  Avho  would  be  such  a  monster  as  to  do  so  ? 
Who  would  dare  to  commit  such  a  crime  in  the  Orsini 
Palace  ?" 

"  Orsini." 

"  I  do  not  understand.  His  Grace  the  Duke  has 
always  seemed  to  me  an  honorable  Knight  and  a  Chris- 
tian   " 

"  This  child  is  name,  but  not  my  husband's. — Now  do 
you  understand  ?" 

"  Good  Heavens !  But  why  are  we  Christians,  unless 
we  are  able  to  forgive  ?  Trust  hi  God ;  trust  to  the 
efficacy  of  repentance,  throw  yourself  at  your  husband's 
feet " 

"  He  would  kill  us  both." 

"  Your  brother's " 

"  He  would  kill  us  both." 

"  Who  says  so  ?  You  are  too  suspicious ;  it  does  not 
seem  right  to  believe  Christians  capable  of  such  enormi- 
ties." 

"  Ah !  Maria !  Men  are  wicked  and  cruel.  They 
wish  to  love  us  only  so  long  as  it  pleases  them,  but  if 
we  cease  to  love  them,  they  call  it  a  crime,  and  as  a 
crime  punish  it  most  severely.  Giordano,  who,  if  I 
were  dying  for  love  of  him,  would  not  stir  from  Rome 
to  say  to  me :  '  Go  in  peace,  O  sorrowing  one ;'  would 
fly  like  an  arrow  from  the  bow  to  kill  me  and  this  child, 
because  I  have  shown  that  I  did  not  care  for  him " 


162  Isabella  Orsini. 

"  The  Duke  may  be  as  you  say,  but  your  brothers — " 

"  My  brothers  have  taken  '  the  shadow  of  a  shade,' 
and  have  called  it  honor.  They,  who  would  wish  to 
rule  universally  and  absolutely,  have  become  the  slaves 
of  this  shadow ;  they  have  made  a  code  of  it,  which 
they  quote  continually ;  but  the  pages  are  blank ;  every 
one  reads  there  what  passion  dictates  ;  one  single  thing 
appears  there,  thanks  to  the  characters  of  blood  in 
which  it  is  written,  and  that  is  death " 

"  Well,  if  there  is  no  longer  any  pity  to  be  found  in 
the  world,  fly,  hide  yourself  in  some  secluded  retreat, 
where  you  may  ask  the  Lord  to  pardon  your  fault,  and 
He  will  certainly  grant " 

"  I  cannot  go  away,  and  I  will  not ;  I  feel  that  I  am 
guilty,  and  will  not  try  to  escape  the  punishment  that 
is  destined  for  me ;  I  no  longer  know  what  to  do  with 
a  life  full  of  remorse  and  shame  ;  henceforward  I  shall 
have  to  cast  down  my  eyes,  unable  to  meet  the  gaze  of 
others;  and  the  daughter  of  a  crowned  prince  must 
hate  life  when  she  is  obliged  to  bow  her  face,  burning 
with  shame. — But  what  crime  has  this  infant  commit- 
ted ?  It  is  innocent ;  its  fate  must  be  separated  from 
mine.  This  child  must  be  saved " 

«  And  it  shall  be." 

"  O  Maria,  with  those  words  you  have  given  me  the 
only  comfort  which  my  sorrowing  soul  can  now  feel. 
Take  him — he  is  yours — and  as  yours  save  him." 

So  saying,  she  took  the  child  and  put  him  in  Maria's 
arms.  The  baby,  who  had  taken  a  fancy  to  Maria, 
raised  his  little  hands  towards  her  face,  and  seemed  to 
entreat  her  as  well  as  he  knew  how ;  Maria,  kissing  him 
with  the  wannest  affection,  replied : 


The  Son.  163 

"  Yes,  my  pretty  angel,  do  not  fear,  I  will  save  you. 
Yes,  you  shall  not  die,  you  must  live  and  be  happy ;  if 
men  are  cruel,  women  are  compassionate,  and  succeed 
better  than  men,  because  God  aids  piety  and  hates  the 
wicked " 

"  Maria,  I  expected  no  less  from  the  great  love  you 
have  always  felt  for  me,  and  still  feel.  God  and  your 
own  conscience  will  reward  you  for  this  good  action, 
better  than  I  ever  can  either  by  word  or  deed.  I  con- 
fess it,  in  the  days  of  my  guilt,  I  avoided  you ;  you 
seemed  a  troublesome  restraint  upon  me.  Do  not  be 
angry ;  would  man  ever  sin,  if  he  did  not  first  drive  his 
guardian  angel  from  him?  My  present  wretchedness 
is  sufficient  punishment  for  my  sin,  and  to  satisfy  you 
entirely,  as  I  ought,  Maria,  I  entreat  your  pardon " 

"  O  my  sweet  Lady,  what  words  are  these  ?  You 
will  make  me  weep,  and  we  have  need  of  all  our  firm- 
ness and  resolution.  Up  now,  tell  me  what  is  to  be 
done.  Night  and  silence  veil  everything  in  mystery ; 
no  one  will  know  it,  and  you  will  live." 

"  Listen :  feeling  sure  of  your  goodness,  I  have  pre- 
pared everything  that  is  necessary.  In  this  chest  you 
will  find  jewels  and  money  sufficient  to  establish  your- 
self. If  the  boy  lives,  employ  it  to  educate  him  pro- 
perly ;  if  it  please  God  to  call  him  to  Himself,  keep  it  for 
your  own  use.  Here  is  a  letter  which  I  confide  solemnly 
to  your  secresy.  "When  you  reach  Paris,  give  it  with 
your  own  hands  to  Catherine,  Queen  of  France " 

"  Paris !  France !  What  do  you  mean  ?  I  never 
dreamed  of  that !" 

"  What  did  you  intend  to  do  ?" 

"  Why,  to  take  the  child  home  with  me  ;  to  move  to 


164  Isabella  Orsini. 

another  street,  and  live  in  some  little  house  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Arno,  where  I  could  let  it  be  understood 

that  the  child  was  my  own "• 

"  That  would  be  perfectly  useless,  for  they  will  seek 
this  little  innocent  with  the  ardor  of  the  bloodhound 
pursuing  the  wild  beast ;  and  while  you  would  fail  to 
save  him,  you  yourself  would  run  extreme  danger.  This 
dear  head  must  be  defended  by  very  different  means ; 
the  space  of  a  thousand  miles  between  him  and  his  per- 
secutors would  hardly  insure  safety " 

"  Ah,  my  Lady  !  I  cannot  leave  Florence !" 
"  What !    You  cannot  ?    Do  you  then  repent  of  your 
kindness  ?    "Will  you  break  your  promise  to  me  ?" 

"  Ah,  my  Lady !  You  know  that  I  am  a  wife.  My 
husband  is  far  distant ;  now  how  can  I,  consistently 
with  my  duty,  go  away  without  his  consent  ?  How 
leave  a  country  which  he  does  not  wish  to  leave  ?  If 
he  were  to  return,  and,  finding  me  gone,  his  love  for  me 
should  be  changed  to  hatred,  should  he  say :  '  Since  she 
is  gone,  I  shall  take  no  more  trouble  about  her ;'  were 
I  to  become  a  wanderer  over  the  world  without  him, 
should  he  doubt  the  great  love  I  feel  for  him,  and  the 
faith  that  I  have  always  kept  to  him,  and  despise  me — 
Ah,  wretched  me  ! — I  should  die, — I  should  certainly 

die  of  grief " 

"  You  love  your  husband  very  much,  Maria  ?" 
"  How  could  I  help  loving  him  ?  When,  forsaken 
by  every  one,  my  parents  dead,  without  a  single  rela- 
tion, banished  from  your  heart,  I  implored  God  to  call 
me  to  Himself,  because  I  had  lost  every  reason  for 
wishing  to  live,  and  the  Lord  not  granting  my  prayer, 
I  felt  myself  plunged  in  despair,  this  beloved  youth  had 


The  Son.  165 

pity  upon  me  and  said :  '  Come,  poor  forsaken  one ; 
rest  upon  my  arm,  and  we  will  make  the  journey  of  life 
together ;  if  you  wish  for  love,  I  offer  you  a  heart  capa- 
ble of  loving :' — and  I  clung  to  him,  as  St.  Peter  did  to 
the  robe  of  Christ,  when  he  felt  himself  drowning,  and  I 
was  saved :  life  became  pleasant  to  me,  and  has  always 
remained  so,  because  I  feel  that  I  give  pleasure  to  him — 
to  my  husband — my  only  comfort  on  earth " 

"  How  happy  you  are  !  But  reassure  yourself,  Ma- 
ria ;  I  shall  know  the  moment  he  returns,  and  then  I 
will  contrive  either  to  speak  to  him  myself,  or,  failing  in 
that,  will  send  a  monk  of  holy  demeanor  and  sweet  elo- 
quence, who  will  be  able  to  make  him  contented,  and 
willing  to  appreciate  your  good  and  pious  action,  so 
that  if  he  love  virtue,  as  he  must,  loving  you,  he  not 
only  will  bear  no  ill-will  against  you,  but  will  love  you 
a  thousand  times  more  than  before " 

"  You  say  well :  but  if  you  should  not  be  able  either 
to  speak  or  to  send  to  him  ;  if,  in  the  bitterness  of  the 
unexpected  calamity,  he  should  be  overcome  by  passion, 
and  destroy  himself,  or  fall  sick — Alas !  I  tremble  at 
the  mere  thought  that  he  might  be  sick,  and  not  have 
his  Maria  by  his  bedside  to  care  for  him " 

"  I  swear  to  you  by  my  soul,  that  he  shall  know  it 
before  he  enters  the  gates  of  Florence ;  do  not  fear,  I 
bind  myself  by  my  word  as  a  Princess  and  a  Chris- 
tian  " 

"  But  even  if  I  could  trust  you  in  this,  Isabella,  how 
could  I  endure  to  banish  myself  for  ever  from,  my 
country  ?" 

"  And  what  is  there  now  in  this  country  of  ours  to 
bind  you  to  it  ?  The  spirit  of  the  republic  is  irrevocably 


166  Isabella  Orsini. 

departed,  not  like  a  flame  extinguished  by  force,  but  like 
a  candle  which  has  burned  to  the  socket.  Most  of  her 
worthiest  children  wander  sadly,  either  in  voluntary  or 
forced  exile,  so  that  it  may  be  said  of  Florence  as  it  was 
of  Pisa  after  the  defeat  at  Meloria,  that  to  see  Pisa  it 
was  necessary  to  go  to  Genoa.  In  Lyons  and  in  Paris 
you  will  meet  the  flower  of  our  citizens.  The  royal 
buildings  and  the  churches  in  France  equal,  if  they  do  not 
surpass,  our  own.  There,  as  here,  the  earth  produces 
pleasant  fruits ;  there,  as  here,  the  sun  and  stars  shed 
their  blessed  light ;  there,  as  here,  people  love,  hate,  are 
born,  live  and  die;  and  God  exalts  the  humble,  casts 
down  the  proud,  and  listens  to  the  prayer  of  innocent 

souls  like  yours " 

"  Yes,  but  there  is  no  shrine  before  which  I  love  to 
pray  so  well  as  that  of  the  Santissima  Annunziata  in 
the  city,  and  in  the  country  that  of  the  Impruneta;  the 
sound  of  the  organ  does  not  exalt  me,  unless  its  echoes 
swell  beneath  the  arches  of  Santa  Maria  del  Fiore  ;  the 
sweet  breeze  of  evening  does  not  refresh  me,  unless  it 
blows  upon  me  from  between  the  Duomo  and  San  Gio- 
vanni. O  my  Lady,  when  I  see  the  trunk  of  a  tree  cut 
down  at  the  root  half  buried  in  the  earth,  despoiled 
henceforward  of  flowers  and  fruits,  and  rendered  offen- 
sive to  the  sight  bj»  the  millions  of  ants  which  have  half- 
eaten  it,  I  think  to  myself — '  Such  it  is  to  be  an  exile.' 
And  then  I  love  to  look  at  well  known  faces,  I  love  to  say, 
when  a  child  is  born  here, — '  That  is  the  child  of  Ginevra 
or  of  Laudomine  ;'  if  any  one  dies — '  God  rest  the  soul 
of  Giulio,  of  Lapo,  or  of  Baccio  ;'  but  away  from  one's 
country,  you  hear  always  around  you — '  Behold  the  child 
of  the  foreigner;  behold  the  companion  of  the  for- 


The  Son.  167 

eigner;'  and  without  really  intending  it,  the  people 
among  whom  you  dwell  never  cease  making  you  feel 
that  you  are  nothing  there,  that  you  do  not  belong  to 
their  land,  that  you  are  privileged  in  being  allowed  to 
breathe  their  air,  to  be  gladdened  by  their  light  and 
warmed  by  their  sun.  Who  would  speak  to  me  again 
in  the  language  in  which  my  darling  mother  chid  me 
when  idle,  or  rewarded  me  when  diligent  ?  And  if  I 
wanted  nothing  else  in  that  foreign  land,  who  could 
enable  me  to  kneel  upon  the  stone  which  covers  the 
bones  of  my  parents,  and  repeat  for  them  the  De  pro- 
fundis  ?  In  my  afflictions,  when  it  seemed  as  if  I  were 
utterly  abandoned,  I  went  to  their  grave  and  grieved 
with  them  at  my  undeserved  fate,  praying  them  to 
receive  me  into  eternal  peace ;  suddenly  I  seemed  to 
hear  a  voice,  I  am  sure  that  I  really  did  hear  one,  which 
comforted  me,  saying:  'Do  not  despair,  continue  to 
walk  in  the  way  of  the  Lord,  for  you  are  already  near 
the  end  of  your  trials.' " 

Isabella  changed  color  many  times  while  Maria  was 
speaking ;  suddenly  she  threw  herself  at  her  feet,  and 
clasping  her  knees,  thus  implored  her : 

"  Maria,  by  the  bones  of  your  parents,  by  the  welfare 
of  your  soul  and  mine,  I  conjure  you  not  to  deny  me 
what  you  have  promised.  Behold  a  mother  utterly 
desolate  ;  see  if '  ever  sorrow  was  like  unto  my  sorrow ;' 
I  will  not  release  your  knees  until  you  have  given  me 
peace ;  I  will  not  raise  my  face  from  the  dust  until  you 
have  pronounced  the  word  that  gives  me  life.  Some 
future  day  you  may  return  to  this  land  which  is  so  dear 
to  you,  and  that  day  cannot  be  far  distant,  for  those  who 
wish  my  death  will  quickly  follow  me  to  the  tomb.  And 


i68  Isabella  Orsini. 

you,  my  child  —  unfortunate  before  you  could  understand 
what  misfortune  is  —  lift  up  your  hands  and  entreat  this 
woman  who  alone  can  preserve  your  life  ;  I  can  do 
nothing  for  you  ;  to  stay  by  my  side  would  bring  certain 
death  upon  you.  Maria!  Maria!  May  the  Virgin  show 
you  mercy  upon  your  death-bed  as  you  now  show  it 
to  me  !  Have  pity  upon  a  mother  who  must  else 
see  her  son  slaughtered  before  her  eyes  —  for  Christ's 
sake  -  !" 

And  seeing  that  Maria  hesitated,  undecided  what  to 
do,  she  rose  wildly  and  clutching  the  child,  who  began 
to  wail  piteously,  she  advanced  with  resolute  step 
towards  the  balcony. 

"  Since,"  she  muttered  convulsively,  "  since  I  cannot 
save  you,  at  least  I  will  not  see  you  die  ;  let  us  perish 
together;  they  must  collect  the  mangled  remains  of 
both.  Maria,  farewell  !  May  this  murder,  which  you 
might  have  prevented,  not  rise  up  in  judgment  against 
you.  Come,  my  baby,  let  us  leave  this  world  where 
virtue  and  hatred  are  equally  cruel  —  all  wicked  and 
cruel  -  " 

Like  one,  who,  after  a  long  and  terrible  struggle,  has 
at  last  resolved  upon  what  part  to  take,  Maria  sprang 
after  Isabella,  and  clinging  to  her  dress,  exclaimed, 
l  —  I  will  go—  to  France 


Isabella,  throwing  her  disengaged  arm  round  her  neck, 
sobbed  without  being  able  to  utter  a  word.  When  she 
had  somewhat  recovered  from  her  violent  excitement, 
she  said, 

"  We  must  hasten,  for  the  hour  approaches." 
She  then  divested  the  child  of  its  gay  trappings  of 
velvet,  and  put  them  with  the  laces  and  counterpane 


The  Son.  169 

into  the  gilded  cradle,  then  kindling  the  fire  she  put 
them  all  in  it. 

"  Let  this  finery  be  destroyed  for  ever,  it  would  not 
bring  you  honor  but  disgrace;  you  must  forget  your 
origin.  Child  of  shame,  be  satisfied  if  the  fault  of  your 
parents  be  not  visited  upon  you.  Maria,  I  prophesy 
that  he  will  be  to  you  a  best  beloved  son,  and  you  cer- 
tainly will  look  upon  him  as  one ;  for  we  love  our  fellow 
beings  in  proportion  to  the  trouble  that  they  cost  us, 
and  to  the  benefits  which  we  confer  upon  them;  and 
you  are  conferring  one  upon  him,  which  the  heart  can 
understand,  but  which  the  lips  cannot  express.  Maria, 
he  will  be  the  pride  of  your  life,  the  comfort  of  your  old 
age  ;  here  I  transfer  to  you  all  the  rights  of  a  mother, 
which  you  will  exercise  much  better  than  I  could  have 
done.  You  will  exert  them  innocently  and  religiously, 
for  that  will  be  piety  in  you,  which  in  me  would  be  sin ; 
but  whencesoever  they  arise  the  rights  of  a  mother  are 
holy  and  sacred.  You  will  bring  him  up  in  the  fear  of 
the  Lord,  make  him  humble  and  gentle*;  proud  thoughts 
are  not  suitable  to  him.  Watch  carefully  that  cruel 
feelings  do  not  steal  into  his  heart ;  do  not  disclose  to 
him  his  birth,  nor,  alas !  who  was  his  mother ;  he  would 
despise  me,  and  the  scorn  of  their  children  weighs  more 
heavily  upon  the  bones  of  parents  than  the  marble  stone. 
At  some  future  time,  if  you  should  discover  him  to  be 
compassionate — as  I  hope  and  pray  he  will  be — if  then 
he  wishes  at  any  rate  to  know  who  his  mother  was,  tell 
him — '  an  unfortunate  one !'  Maria,  I  implore  you  to 
impress  it  upon  him  never  to  remove  this  little  pearl 
cross  which  I  take  from  my  neck  and  put  on  his.  Mark 
well  what  I  have  said,  for  it  is  my  last  will,  and  these  my 

8 


170  Isabella  Orsini. 

last  words,  that  I  now  say  to  you.  Adieu,  my  own, 
pardon  me  the  life  which  I  have  given  you ;  adieu,  never 
to  see  you  again — but  perhaps  in  heaven  hereafter. 
But  how  can  I  hope  that  God  will  pardon  my  crime  ? 
I  will  weep  day  and  night — I  will  expiate  my  sin  with 
blood,  and  appeased  Justice  will  not  forbid  Mercy  to 
join  in  Heaven  those  whom  sin  has  separated  on  earth. 
But — the  Mother  of  Christ  pardon  me  the  prayer — if  in 
the  life  beyond  the  tomb  we  may  not  be  united,  may 
you  at  least,  my  son,  be  admitted  into  Paradise;  in 
eternal  torments,  it  will  still  be  some  comfort  to  your 
mother  to  know  that  you  are  happy  in  the  abode  of  the 
blessed.  Maria — take  him — I  dare  not  bless  him  for  fear 
my  benediction  should  bring  evil  upon  his  head " 

"  My  poor  Lady !  Bless  him,  bless  him,  for  the  Lord 
will  listen  to  your  blessing  as  to  that  of  a  saint " 

"  Do  you  really  believe  so,  Maria  ?" 

"  By  all  my  hopes  of  Heaven,  I  do  believe  it " 

"  O  Lord,  cleanse  my  hands  for  a  moment,  that  I  may 
bless  this  innocent  head,"  exclaimed  Isabella,  raising  her 
eyes  to  Heaven  and  praying  silently.  Then  a  glorious 
radiance  spread  over  her  face.  Reassured,  she  extended 
her  hands  over  the  child  and  added : 

"  Go,  my  son,  I  bless  you " 

Then,  trembling,  she  took  the  light  and  continued : 

"  Come ;  before  daybreak,  they  will  call  for  you  and 
will  escort  you  to  Livorno,  where  a  vessel  is  waiting  for 
you.  Come ;  I  feel  as  if  we  could  not  be  quick  enough." 

Maria  took  the  baby,  and  wrapped  him  in  a  brown 
cloak.  Isabella  preceded  her  with  the  light,  as  she  had 
done  on  her  arrival.  Reaching  the  bottom  of  the  stair- 
case, she  raised  her  hand  several  times  to  open  the  door, 


The  Son.  171 

but  seemed  unable ;  at  last,  a  new  thought  came  sud- 
denly into  her  mind,  restoring  her  strength  and  fortitude. 

"  One  kiss — another — another  still !  Maria — my  son 
— farewell  for  ever " 

Maria  kissed  her,  weeping,  and  went  out  quickly, 
slipping  hastily  along  close  to  the  wall. 

Isabella,  overwhelmed  with  anguish,  sank  down  upon 
the  step,  and  leaned  her  forehead  against  the  marble — 
her  forehead  was  colder  than  the  stone. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

JEALOUSY. 

Che  dolce  piu,  che  pift  giocondo  stato 
Saria  di  quel  di  un  amoroso  core  ? 
Che  vlver  phi  felice,  e  piil  beato, 
Che  ritrovarsi  in  servitil  di  Amore  ? 
Be  non  fosse  1'uom'  sempre  stimolato 
Da  quel  sospetto  rio,  da  quel  timore, 
Da  quel  martir,  da  quella  frenesia, 
Da  quella  rabbia  detta  gelosia. 

*  *  *  *  * 
Questa  e  la  cruda,  e  avvelenata  piaga 

A  cui  non  val  liquor,  non  vale  impiastro, 
Nd  murmure,  ne  imagine  di  saga. 

AEIOSTO,  xxxi. 

Man  no  state  more  blissful  knows 
Than  what  Love  on  life  bestows ; 
Then  our  happiest  hours  we  prove 
When  we  are  the  slaves  of  love. 
But  alas !  how  brief  our  bliss  1 
Still  suspicion's  serpents  hiss 
Round  our  heart,  and  that  curs'd  fear — 
Frenzy — martyrdom — is  near, — 
Rage — that  fires  the  heart  and  eye, 

Called  by  mortals  Jealousy. 

*  *  *  *  * 
This,  that  cruel,  poisoned  wound 
For  whose  cure  no  herb  is  found ; 
If  that  fatal  dart  we  feel, 

Art  nor  charm  nor  skill  can  heal. 

"  BLESSED  are  the  poor  in  spirit,  for  theirs  is  the  king- 
dom of  heaven."  These  are  the  words  of  Christ,  and 
although  I  do  not  doubt  that  they  have  been  understood 
according  to  the  deep  wisdom  with  which  they  AVCVO 
uttered,  yet  I  will  discourse  a  little,  not  upon  them,  for 


Jealousy.  1 73 

they  have  no  need  of  comment,  but  after  their  instruc- 
tion. Man  should  avoid  those  studies  which  make  him 
doubt.  He  should  love  himself  first,  but  in  a  just  man- 
ner, then  his  family,  then  his  country.  There  have  been, 
and  perhaps  there  still  are,  men  who  love  their  country 
more  than  themselves;  but  an  acute  observer  will  easily 
understand  that  sacrificing  one's  life  (compared  to  which, 
everything  else  seems  but  of  little  value)  is  generally 
induced  by  a  great  love  of  praise  and  an  uncontrollable 
thirst  for  fame  ;  and  that  in  truth  they  love  renown  bet- 
ter than  life.  The  soul  should  be  neither  a  Menade  nor 
a  Bacchante  through  the  fields  of  knowledge ;  science 
has  its  fatal  orgies,  more  than  dissipation ;  the  waters  do 
not  always  flow  clear,  fresh,  and  sweet  from  its  urn ;  they 
are  sometimes  poisoned.  The  tree  of  knowledge  is  not 
only,  not  the  tree  of  life,  but  the  Lord  said  to  man  : — 
"  But  of  the  tree  of  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil, 
thou  shalt  not  eat  of  it :  for  in  the  day  that  thou  eatest 
thereof  thou  shalt  surely  die."  The  man  who  has  seen  too 
much,  like  Delia  contemplating  the  sun,  has  become  blind 
with  too  much  light ;  his  heart  has  turned  to  ashes,  he 
is  not  exalted  by  anything,  has  faith  in  nothing  ;  virtue 
and  crime,  morality  and  vice,  sound  the  same  to  him, 
they  are  like  sweet  fruits  in  one  country,  and  poisonous 
ones  in  another,  the  fault  of  the  earth  or  the  climate : 
the  soul  is  to  him  a  breath  which  ceases  with  death,  home 
the  place  where  he  shelters  his  head  from  the  storm: 
God  a  name. 

Man  should  be  satisfied  to  stop  short  at  the  quia :  * 
for  if  he  trusts    himself  to  travel  thus    at  random 

*  The  wherefore. 


174  Isabella  Orsini. 

through  the  regions  of  knowledge,  the  evils  resulting 
from  this  restless  wandering  would  be  equal  to  those 
which  are  the  consequence  of  continual  travelling  through- 
out the  physical  world.  The  latter  takes  away  his  family, 
friends,  and  home :  the  former  his  faith  and  affections. 
Job  truly  compares  too  much  knowledge  to  a  heap  of 
ashes,  for  it  is  in  truth  the  most  unhappy  remains  of  a 
fire  which  will  never  burn  again.  I  have  already  said 
the  Creator  should  have  suspended  truth  as  the  only 
luminary  from  the  firmament :  for  then  no  one  could  have 
doubted  its  beneficial  light  and  heat,  as  perhaps  some 
have  done  of  the  Sun :  and  I  say  perhaps,  since  there 
have  been  men  who  doubted  whether  the  sun  was  a  mass 
of  fire,  believing  it  to  be  rather  a  mass  of  ice  causing  a 
rotary  motion  hi  the  molecules  of  the  air : — which  is  a 
German  idea.  Ahasuerus,  the  wandering  Jew,  represents 
the  symbol  of  this  insatiable  desire  of  knowledge :  he 
travels  and  travels  over  desert  shores,  over  burning  sands, 
over  snowy  fields :  he  has  seen  the  cupola  of  St.  Peter's, 
the  mosques  of  Constantinople,  and  the  temples  of 
Brahma  and  Bhudda :  he  has  seen  dogs,  oxen,  crocodiles, 
and  serpents  worshipped :  even  onions  raised  to  the 
dignity  of  Gods ! 

Porrum  et  cepe  nefas  violare,  ac  frangere  morsu. 
0  sanctas  gentes,  quibus  haec  nascuntur  in  kortis 
Numina  I — JUVENAL,  Satire  15. 

He  has  seen  bloodless  sacrifices,  sacrifices  of  blood  and 
human  victims ;  he  has  seen  everything :  he  has  forgot- 
ten all  he  knew,  and  all  that  he  has  learned  is  not  suffi- 
cient to  appease  the  feverish  craving  of  his  intellect :  all 
that  he  wishes  to  know  in  order  to  satisfy  his  burning 


Jealousy.  1 75 

thirst,  is  inclosed  within  the  urn  of  destiny :  he  hates  to 
return  home,  for  no  one  expects  him  there  :  his  relatives 
are  dead,  generations  have  forgotten  his  name  :  he  loves 
no  one,  and  no  one  loves  him :  he  refuses  friends,  rejects 
affections,  and  avoids  binding  ties  which  he  MUST  unbind 
to-morrow.  Perhaps  in  that  great  day  when  God  Mill 
reveal  his  eternal  face  to  the  vast  multitude  of  created 
things,  his  agony  will  be  appeased,  and  God  will  give 
him  rest,  not  for  having  loved  much,  but  because  he 
suffered  much.* 
Be  contented,  race  of  man,  at  the  quia : — 

State  contente  umane  genti  al  quia, 
Che  se  potato  aveste  veder  tutto, 
Meatier  non  era  partorir  Maria. — DANTE. 

else  you  will  feel  the  earth  tremble  beneath  your  feet, 
and  the  heavens  fall  upon  your  heads.  You  grow  np 
educated  in  the  supreme  idea  of  a  Being  who  animates 
with  the  breath  of  his  immort.il  mouth  all  that  has  life 
in  the  universe ;  who  breaks  the  oppressor  like  a  fragile 
reed,  and  shelters  the  oppressed  under  his  mighty  wing ; 
but  in  travelling  you  will  find  people  who  neither  know 
God  nor  worship  Hun  ;  but  make  to  themselves  a  God 
of  dogs,  serpents,  oxen,  elephants,  and  onions,  and  often 

*  Ahasuerus  is  said  to  be  a  Jew,  who,  while  Christ  was  ascending 
Golgotha,  denied  Him  water  to  quench  his  thirst,  and  would  not  let 
him  rest  beneath  the  shadow  of  his  house;  he  was  therefore  con- 
demned to  wander,  for  ever  cursed  and  despised.  This  legend,  very 
common  in  Germany,  is  only  a  fable,  as  any  one  may  see.  Edgar 
Quinet  composed  a  drama  on  this  subject,  the  personages  represented 
being  sphinxes,  winds,  trophies  of  arms,  ruins,  rivers,  and  even  the 
ocean.  It  cannot  be  denied,  however,  that  among  so  many  and  so  strange 
fancies,  this  drama  contains  some  noble  passages  of  splendid  poetry. 


176  Isabella  Orsini. 

of  a  monster  hideous  to  look  upon,  but  much  more 
hideous  in  his  bloody  rites.  It  is  piety  in  you  to  watch 
over  your  old  infirm  father,  to  comfort  him  in  his  last 
moments  with  loving  cares,  and  close  his  eyes  in  peace ; 
and  yet  there  were  and  still  are  people,  who  esteem  it 
filial  piety  to  drag  their  parents  from  their  suffering  beds, 
and  hanging  them  to  the  branches  of  trees,  light  beneath 
them  great  fires,  crying  in  their  giddy  dance  around 
them : — "  when  the  fruit  is  ripe,  it  must  fall," — until  the 
body  falls  and  is  consumed  in  the  fire.  And  you,  fathers 
in  our  beloved  country,  what  sufferings  would  you  not 
undergo,  in  order  not  to  see  your  beloved  children  torn 
from  your  arms,  or  murdered  ? 

In  China,  they  offer  children  as  food  to  dogs,  or  throw 
them  into  the  river.  In  Africa  they  sell  them ;  and  Clap- 
perton  tells  of  a  negro  woman,  who  offered  her  children 
for  sale  to  him,  and  because  he  would  not  buy  them, 
cursed  and  beat  them  because  they  did  not  please  the 
white  man.  We  deem  it  sacred  to  bury  our  beloved 
dead  within  splendid  monuments  or  tombs ;  elsewhere 
it  is  sacred  to  feed  on  their  limbs.  Remorse  and  public 
hate  await  him  who  can  and  does  not  save  a  drowning 
man :  in  China  remorse  and  reproach  are  his  reward 
who  saves  the  shipwrecked  sailor.  We  have  laws  and 
sentences  against  robbery,  and  the  more  skill  and  cun- 
ning do  the  thieves  show,  the  more  are  they  punished. 
The  Spartans  rewarded  thieves,  and  the  more  skill  they 
displayed  the  greater  was  the  reward. 

Nor  is  it  to  be  supposed  that  the  people  among  whom 
such  horrible  customs  are  practised  cannot  give  a  rea- 
son, good  or  bad,  for  it.  They  do  not  believe  in  God, 
because  they  do  not  understand  Him ;  they  are  not 


Jealousy.  1 77 

able  to  conceive  other  ideas  save  those  that  present 
themselves  to  their  senses,  hence  they  refuse  them. 
Foolish  men !  They  presume  that  God  should  be  de- 
monstrated like  a  problem  of  Euclid  upon  a  slate :  for 
religion  they  want  algebra,  for  an  altar  arithmetic,  for  a 
votive  offering  a  well  summed  up  account,  for  a  minis- 
ter an  accountant.  Others  deem  it  a  pity  to  cut  short 
a  life  which  has  now  become  an  irremediable  grief; 
others  deem  their  own  bosoms  a  more  suitable  grave 
than  earth  or  marble  ;  others  that  it  is  a  bold  attempt 
to  oppose  the  designs  of  nature ;  others  that  citizens 
early  accustomed  to  subtle  cunning  are  useful  to  the 
Republic.  Travel  and  learn ;  and  while  you  are  urged 
by  a  strong  desire  to  gather  flowers  from  all  the  uni- 
verse and  rejoice  in  their  delightful  fragrance,  behold 
the  evil  worm  of  doubt  creeps  insidiously  into  your 
heart  and  gnaws  it.  The  sceptical  heart  is  dead,  but  as 
the  mind  lives,  we  seem  like  people  who  have  outlived 
ourselves :  keepers  almost  of  pur  own  tombs. 

Verily  I  advise  you  to  be  satisfied  at  the  quia.  Love 
much,  read  little,  and  let  that  be  poetry,  the  purest 
wine  of  the  soul,  a  precious  ambrosia  gushing  from 
celestial  fountains.  And  mark,  I  speak  of  lofty  poetry, 
the  offspring  of  the  mind  inflamed  by  the  heart,  for 
that  poetry  which  comes  from  the  intellect  only,  en- 
genders doubt.  "Who  would  have  been  more  fortunate 
tli  an  Byron  ?  Did  Kature  ever  create  more  powerful 
wings  to  soar  to  an  immeasurable  height  ?  Who  had  a 
better  heart,  a  clearer  mind?  But  he  wished  to  see 
and  know  too  much,  to  scrutinize  too  minutely  the 
genesis  of  the  affections :  a  new  Acteon,  he  received 
the  penalty  of  his  bold  investigations :  his  own  faithful 

8* 


178  Isabella  Orsini. 

hounds  pursued  him  and  tore  him  in  pieces.  As  if  for 
sport  he  wished  to  add  the  chord  of  doubt  to  his  lyre  ; 
he  thought  it  would  increase  the  number  of  its  varied 
sounds,  but  he  deceived  himself:  this  chord  cut  his 
fingers  worse  than  a  dagger's  edge.  The  advice  of 
Ephorus  was  most  wise;  he  broke  with  an  axe  the  new 
chord  added  to  the  Argive  lyre.  The  lyres  of  Olym- 
pus and  Terpander,  when  they  accompanied  the  songs 
of  gods  and  men,  had  but  three  chords :  twelve  were 
those  of  the  lyre  of  Timotheus  when  he  sang  at  the 
banquet  of  Alexander  and  Thais  (from  whence  he  who 
had  acquired  the  name  of  Great  derived  his  infamy),  and 
at  the  burning  of  the  ancient  Persepolis :  and  three 
should  be  the  chords  of  any  lyre,  that  intends  to  lead 
mankind  through  all  that  is  honorable  and  great  upon 
the  earth,  to  the  eternal  home  of  heaven ;  and  these 
chords  should  be,  Love,  Faith,  and  Hope. 

But  what  has  all  this  to  do  with  my  story  ?  You 
will  see  that  it  has  a  great  deal  to  do  with  it,  for,  con- 
tinuing, it  will  be  shown  how  poor  people,  with  the  fear 
of  God,  and  firm  in  the  precepts  of  Christian  charity, 
can  give  examples  of  virtue  which  might  be  sought  in 
vain  among  men  gifted  with  greater  talents  and  more 
liberal  instruction. 

Duke  Bracciano,  in  company  with  Cecchino  and  Titta, 
turned  with  slow  steps  towards  the  Casino  St.  Marco. 
The  two  servants  now  thought  they  might  refresh 
themselves  with  food  and  drink,  and  give  some  repose 
to  their  wearied  limbs :  but  they  were  deceived.  The 
Duke,  as  soon  as  he  entered,  fell  upon  the  first  seat  lie 
saw,  and  remained  there  some  time  with  his  eyes  closed : 
he  lifted  his  hand  to  his  head,  and  pressing  it  as  if  afraid 


Jealousy.  1 79 

it  might  burst,  said :  "  Here  everything  poisons  me ! 
Here  I  breathe  an  atmosphere  of  crime !  They  have 
poured  a  hell  into  my  soul !  Arouse,  Titta  and  Cecchino ; 
you  must  now  show  your  fidelity,  courage,  and  discre- 
tion. Go  to  my  palace,  present  yourselves  to  my  Lady 
the  Duchess :  warn  her  .  .  .  but  no  ...  wait.  Bring  me 
writing  materials." 

The  landlord  of  the  Casino  brought  promptly  what 
he  desired.  The  Duke  tried  to  write,  but  his  trembling 
hand  denied  its  office :  he  could  not  hasten,  but  was 
obliged  to  wait.  At  last  more  calm,  he  wrote  a  short 
note,  which  he  sealed,  and  gave  to  Titta,  and  then  con- 
tinued his  interrupted  orders : 

"  Do  not  warn  her  of  anything :  but  give  her  this  let- 
ter, and  say  you  precede  me  by  one  or  two  days.  He- 
member  I  am  not  in  Florence.  Observe  attentively 
every  act,  note  every  word,  and  when  it  is  spoken,  or 
if  she  say  anything,  although  it  may  seem  of  little  im- 
portance, come  cautiously  and  tell  me.  I  shall  not 
leave  here. — Go,  be  faithful,  do  not  fail  in  your  duty  to 
your  master :  you  may  shortly  know  .  .  .  know  what 
you  never  should  have  known  .  .  .  and  what  .  .  .  indeed ! 
What  I  never  should  have  told  you." 

And  he  dismissed  them  with  a  motion  of  his  hand. 
The  servants  bowed  obsequiously  and  left. 

After  walking  about  a  dozen  steps,  Titta  began  thus  : 
"  I  hope  Fortune  will,  in  the  end,  give  us  leave  to  sup ; 
we  have  suffered  more  ill-luck  in  our  supper  than  ever 
befell  the  Emperor  Charles  in  his  kingdom." 

"  I  have  been  thinking,  and  have  just  decided,  to  leave 
the  service  of  the  Duke,  and  go  to  my  own  house  near 
by." 


180  Isabella  Orsini. 

"  God  help  you,  have  you  lost  your  wits  ?  It  some- 
times happens  when  we  travel  in  this  season  of  the  year 
beneath  a  hot  sun." 

"  I  have  not  lost  my  wits,  Titta ;  no,  I  have  not  lost 
them.  You  see,  when  I  engaged  myself  as  man-at-arms 
for  my  Lord  Duke,  it  was  for  a  reason  which  I  will  tell 
you.  My  father  lived  in  the  time  of  the  Republic,  and 
gave  me  a  bad  inheritance,  for  instead  of  educating  me 
to  the  times,  he  was  always  talking  to  me  of  Signer 
Giovanni  of  the  black  bands,  of  Giacomino,  Ferruccio, 
and  other  like  men,  so  that  a  fever  took  hold  of  me  to 
follow  in  their  footsteps,  for  I  felt  as  if  nature  had  en- 
dowed me  with  something :  but  I  did  not  see  in  what 
way  I  could  follow  this  inclination :  the  war  with  Siena 
was  over,  and  yet  I  would  have  cut  my  hand  off  before 
J  would  have  leagued  with  the  assassins  of  those  noble 
citizens.  I  married  in  order  to  quiet  this  wild  disposi- 
tion :  it  was  all  nonsense.  I  did  not  know  how  to  settle 
myself  to  a  mechanic's  trade  ;  thanks  to  Lady  Isabella, 
who  was  foster-sister  to  my  wife,  I  took  service  with 
my  Lord  Duke,  trusting  that  he  being  made  General  by 
the  Pope  or  Venetians,  I  might  at  least  bear  arms 
against  the  enemies  of  Christ,  those  ugly  Turkish  dogs 
whom  God  confound.  But  I  have  wasted  the  best  years 
of  my  life  in  Rome  without  drawing  even  a  spider  from 
his  hole,  and  my  sword  has  rusted  in  its  scabbard." 

"  Ah,  yes !  Death  is  so  slow  that  it  is  really  worth 
while  to  go  and  meet  it.  Is  it  not  so  much  life  found  ? 
Have  you  not  got  your  wages  ?  What  can  you  do  in 
this  world  better  than  to  eat  and  sleep  ?" 

"  "Why  so  ?  Were  not  the  men  whose  fame  sounds 
upon  the  lips  of  the  people  flesh  and  blood  like  us  ? 


Jealousy.  181 

Did  they  not  bask  in  the  same  rays  of  light  ?  Did  not 
winter  chill  them,  and  summer  warm  them  ?  Did  they 
not  weep  and  laugh  ?  "Were  they  not  mortals  like  us  ?" 

"  Hear  me,  Cecchino ;  there  are  men  who  grow  tip 
like  pines,  others  like  grass:  the  latter  is  born  every 
year,  and  every  year  is  cut  down  with  the  scythe ;  it  is 
left  to  dry  upon  the  fields,  and  then  is  given  to  cattle. 
We  are  of  the  second  species.  The  hay  might  say :  I 
wish  to  be  a  pine !  Just  so  one  of  us  might  presume  to 
become  duke,  prince,  or  I  know  not  what.  When  you 
shall  have  left  one  eye  in  Africa,  one  arm  in  America, 
one  leg  in  Hungary,  to  the  remaining  trunk  of  your 
body,  within  which  your  immortal  soul  is  sheltered  like 
a  garrison  in  the  fortress  of  a  castle,  they  will  give  the 
title  of  sergeant,  and  a  couple  of  ducats  for  pay.  Once, 
in  republics,  we  had  a  chance  to  come  out  something : 
but  nowadays  glory  is  for  great  lords :  it  is  our  duty 
to  be  killed ;  so  the  best  thing  is  to  draw  our  pay,  and 
preserve  our  health  as  well  as  we  can.  If  life  is  an  evil, 
death  is  a  worse  one.  We  call  this  world  a  valley  of 
tears ;  but  it  would  seem  as  if  men  liked  to  weep,  for  no 
one  would  ever  leave  it  unless  expelled  from  it." 

"  And  supposing  you  are  right',  I  never  will  eat  bread 
gained  through  baseness  and  crime  ;  it  would  break  out 
my  teeth,  and  turn  to  poison  in  my  stomach.  I  wish  to 
live  hi  peace  with  myself." 

"  God  help  you  !  What  do  you  want  your  master  to 
do  with  your  virtue  ?  You  remind  me  of  Diogenes,  who 
cried  when  brought  to  the  market-place  to  be  sold  :  '  Who 
wants  to  buy  a  master  ?'  Virtue  is  a  sail  with  which  we 
make  but  little  progress  over  the  sea  of  life ;  in  these 
times  virtue  is  as  useful  as  a  warming-pan  in  August. 


182  Isabella  Orsini. 

"Watchfulness  over  our  master's  safety,  obedience  to  his 
commands,  a  German  patience  to  wait  in  a  corner, 
promptness  to  give  a  stab  in  the  dark  that  despatches 
without  giving  time  for  a  Jesu  Maria,  and  a  mystery  in 
not  having  it  discovered,  will  procure  us  all  the  fame  that 
is  granted  us  to  acquire,  and  bread  for  ourselves  and 
families.  .  .  ." 

"  No,  never  will  I  do  this ;  no,  by  St.  John  the  Bap- 
tist my  protector ;  I  pray  him  to  give  me  an  evil  death 
first.  Go,  spy  and  tell.  I  would  rather  bite  my  tongue 
out  than  play  the  spy.  Titta,  do  you  not  smell  blood 
here  ?  One  of  these  days  we  must  give  an  account  of  this 
bloodshed.  And  what  pretext,  what  excuse  can  we  give 
for  it  ?  Can  we  say :  '  ask  the  account  of  our  master  ?' " 

"  Indeed,  you  make  me  have  some  scruple ;  not  for  the 
blood,  for  this  is  part  of  our  trade.  They  have  really 
bought  us  soul  and  dagger,  and  to  use  it  in  a  different 
way  certainly  than  the  Emperor  Domitian ;  but  the  name 
of  spy  sticks  in  my  throat ....  besides,  the  Duke  debases 
us  without  necessity.  What  need  is  there  (for  I  see 
plain  enough  that  here  is  the  knot)  for  spies  to  know  if 
a  wife  is  unfaithful  ?  Do  you  not  think  so,  Cecchino  ? 
Would  he  be  the  first  husband  to  find  out  that  all  is  not 
gold  that  glitters?  As  it  has  been  said:  women  are 
all  of  the  same  stamp !  .  .  ." 

"  That  is  not  true ;  I  would  swear  now,  you  are  saying 
what  you  do  not  believe,  Was  not  your  mother  a  woman  ?  " 

"  Ah,  yes !  my  mother  was  a  woman ;  but  I  was  not 
speaking,  nor  thinking  of  her  just  then ;  I  said  it  of  the 
others.  .  .  ." 

"  And  do  you  not  believe  a  woman  can  love  ?"  .  .  . 

"  I  believe  it,  although  it  sometimes  seems  the  contrary. 


Jealousy.  1 83 

Place  yourself  at  the  mouth  of  a  cave,  and  utter  a  cry 
within  it ;  the  echo  will  repeat  it  six  or  seven  times. 
But  is  the  cry  yours,  or  the  cave's  ?  Yours.  It  seems 
as  if  other  voices  replied  to  you,  but  you  are  deceived, 
for  all  these  voices  are  one  and  the  same  thing  as  your 
own  voice.  So  when  you  say  to  a  woman : — I  love  you, 
— she  will  reply  : — I  love  you,  love  you,  love  you ; — but 
woe  to  you  if  you  believe  she  said  it  by  herself;  it  was 
the  echo  of  your  own  voice,  and  woe  to  you  if  you  fall 
in  love  with  your  own  voice  as  Narcissus  did  with  his 
own  face.  .  .  ." 

"  Listen,  Titta,  I  am  young  and  of  little  experience ; 
but  I  can  see  that  your  heart  bleeds,  perhaps  from  some 
deserved  wound :  you  have  not  been  loved,  or  have  been 
betrayed ;  but  have  you  ever  loved  ?" 

"  I  speak  philosophically,  without  reference  to  myself. 
What  I  tell  you  is  natural,  and  cannot  be  otherwise. 
Inconstancy  is  a  fruit  of  youth  like  the  fragrant  red 
strawberry  of  spring ;  constancy  is  a  fruit  of  mature 
age  like  the  medlar  of  autumn ; — therefore  in  woman 
virtue  may  be  called  the.  medlar  of  life !  All  beautiful 
things  seem  splendid  in  variety.  Look  at  the  rainbow, 
look  at  the  dove's  neck  in  the  sunlight,  look  at  the 
peacock's  tail.  Why  do  bees  make  sweet  honey  and 
wax  ?  Because  they  fly  from  flower  to  flower.  Women 
are  moved  by  the  same  impulse  as  the  bees.  We  are 
stupid  creatures,  to  think  of  taking  a  soul  and  shutting 
it  up  in  a  cage  like  a  bird,  or  nailing  it  down  as  a  money 
changer  does  a  ducat  on  his  counter ;  even  more  cruel 
than  stupid,  after  we  are  dead,  we  thrust  a  bony  arm 
from  the  grave  and  presume  to  hold  a  poor  woman  by 
the  hair.  If  she  will  keep  herself  a  good  widow, — the 


184  Isabella  Orsini. 

will  says, — she  shall  have  so  much ;  if  not,  nothing ; — 
very  bad  ideas  in  bad  words ;  because  we  are  dead,  shall 
not  others  enjoy  life  ?" 

"  All  this  would  be  very  well,  if  life  was  a  book,  that 
we  close  on  coming  to  the  conclusion,  and  put  away  to 
see  no  more;  but  as  we  must  think  to  meet  again  in 
the  valley  of  Jehosaphat,  if  one's  wife  has  had  another 
husband,  or  even  two,  which  will  she  have  ?  With 
which  shall  she  live  to  all  eternity  ?" 

"  With  the  one  she  likes  best ;  and  there  is  no  use  to 
fret  about  that,  since  all  shall  have  their  turn ;  all  shall 
be  satisfied,  if  you  only  think  of  the  length  of  eternity 
in  women,  which  I  have  been  assured  by  people  worthy 
of  belief,  lasts  all  one  week  and  sometimes  a  little  over 
the  next  Monday." 

"  Go,  go,  you  will  die  despairing,  since  you  deny  love. — 
Love,  the  sweetest  union  of  spirits,  two  souls  joined  in 
one,  redoubling  strength  and  help,  nourished  by  mutual 
sacrifices  like  the  violet  on  dew." 

"  Nonsense,  my  boy,  nonsense  ;  love  is  an  instinct  of 
rapine,  the  agony  of  power,  and  the  tenacity  of  posses- 
sion. The  love  for  a  woman  is  like  the  love  of  property. 
Time  was,  but  a  time  very,  very  distant,  according  to  all 
accounts  even  before  Adam,  in  which  mine  and  thine 
meant  nothing  on  the  tongues  of  men  ;  a  traveller  see- 
ing a  ripe  fruit  hanging  from  a  tree,  plucked  and  ate  it. 
But  one  night  certain  envious  men  met  together,  and 
digging  a  pit  around  some  land  more  fertile  than  the 
rest,  said  in  the  morning  :  no  one  shall  pass  beyond  this 
pit,  for  the  land  here  is  our  property. — People  did  not 
care  though,  and  did  the  same  as  before.  Then  these 
envious  men  planted  a  stone  on  the  limits,  and  threat 


Jealousy.  185 


ened  evil  to  whomsoever  should  dare  to  pass  it.  'Twas 
of  no  more  use  than  before ;  the  excluded  men  looked 
upon  it  as  a  joke.  Finally  they  put  an  axe  upon  the 
stone,  and  said :  Whosoever  passes  beyond  now,  shall 
die. — But  the  excluded  men  laughed  still  more  at  this 
buffoonery  and  passed  over;  the  others,  however,  lay 
in  ambush,  took  them,  and  murdered  them.  Then  the 
women  wept,  children  cried,  and  property  entered  into 
the  minds  of  men  because  they  had  cut  off  the  heads  of 
others." 

"  Pardon  me,  but  where  did  you  find  all  this  non- 
sense ?  However  bad  it  may  be,  it  is  not  flour  from 
your  bag." 

"  Indeed  it  is  not :  if  you  could  only  have  been  so 
fortunate  as  to  have  heard  it  as  I  did  from  the  lips  of 
that  great  philosopher,  that  divine. . .  " 

"  What  divine  ?" 

"  Pietro  Aretino." 

"Ah!  I  do  not  want  to  hear  any  more.  All  have 
called  him,  and  still  do  call  him  divine ;  which  title,  if  it 
does  not  give  testimony  of  his  divinity,  certainly  bears 
witness  to  the  extreme  cowardice  of  the  men  who  con- 
ferred it  on  him,  or  consented  to  it." 

"  You  slander  him ;  he  was  firm  in  his  friendship,  and 
had  great  affection  for  Sir  Giovanni  dei  Medici  of  the 
black  band,  and  followed  him  through  hardship  and 
danger  in  his  most  daring  exploits. . ." 

"  This  friendship  spoils  the  fame  of  that  renowned 
man.  I  know  very  well  that  while  Sir  Giovanni  was 
fighting,  he  was  dallying  with  the  women  of  the 
camp. . ." 

"  That  is  not  true,  for  he  received  some  wounds." 


i86  Isabella  Orsini. 

"  What  of  that  ?  When  did  the  receiving  of  a  wound 
ever  signify  prowess  ?  Even  Achille  della  Volta  stab- 
bed him,  and  he  received  the  wounds  weeping  and  beg- 
ging for  life  ?  And  what  reply  did  he  make  to  Tinto- 
retto when  he  measured  him  with  a  cutlass  ?  He  was 
smooth  as  oil.  And  when  Piero  Strozzi  threatened  to 
kill  him  in  his  bed,  did  he  not  shut  himself  up  in  his 
house,  nailing  doors  and  windows  for  fear  of  air  ?"* 

*  Achille  della  Volta  stabbed  severely  the  satirical  poet  Pietro  Are- 
tino  in  Rome,  and  on  this  account  his  arm  was  lame  during  his  life- 
time. Tintoretto,  the  painter,  hearing  that  Aretino  spoke  very  badly 
of  him,  meeting  him  one  day  near  his  studio,  invited  him  very  cour- 
teously to  walk  hi,  and  look  at  his  pictures.  Aretino  went,  and  Tin- 
toretto, after  bolting  the  door,  without  saying  a  word  went  to  a  closet 
and  took  out  a  cutlass,  and  advanced  with  threatening  aspect  towards 
Aretino.  "Alasl  Tonio,"  exclaimed  Pietro,  trembling,  "what  do 
you  mean  to  do  ?  Do  not  allow  yourself  to  bo  tempted  by  the  devil ! 
Would  you  kill  me  without  sacrament,  like  a  dog  ?"  Tintoretto  quietly 
approached  him,  who  was  trembling  from  head  to  foot,  and  measured 
him  with  the  cutlass,  and  seeing  he  was  almost  ready  to  die  with 
fright,  said :  "  Fear  not,  Sir  Pietro ;  for  taking  a  fancy  to  paint  your 
portrait,  I  wanted  to  measure  you :  you  can  go  now ;  you  are  exactly 
three  cutlasses  and  a  half  high  I"  and  opening  the  door  he  dismissed 
him.  Aretino  always  spoke  well  of  Tintoretto  after  that.  Aretino 
having  been  very  intimate  with  John  dei  Medici  of  the  black-bands, 
continued  his  attachment  to  the  Grand  Duke  Cosimo  his  son,  from 
whom  he  received  many  presents,  as  shown  by  his  letters ;  therefore, 
adverse  to  Piero  Strozzi  at  the  tune  of  the  war  with  Siena,  he  wrote  a 
humorous  sonnet  upon  him,  which  began  thus : 

E,  Piero  Strozzi  anna  virnmque  cano,  etc. 

Piero,  after  that,  warned  him  to  carry  the  extreme  unction  in  his  poc- 
ket, for  he  would  cause  him  to  be  murdered  even  were  he  in  his  own 
bed.  Aretino,  frightened,  dared  not  go  out  of  his  house  for  a  year  or 
more.  I  cannot  conclude  this  note  without  recording  the  epitaphs  or 


Jealousy.  1 87 

"  What  can  one  do  against  people  who  take  one  un- 
armed and  unawares  ?  And  if  Piero  made  Duke  Cosi- 
mo  fear  him,  what  wonder  if  the  divine  tried  to  guard 
himself  from  him  ?  But  what  devotion  he  showed  to- 
wards his  children  Austria  and  Adria  ?  You  should  have 
seen  how  much  he  thought  of  them,  and  how  careful  he 
was  to  assure  them  a  dowry  in  the  hands  of  the  Duke  of 
Urbino,  and  how  he  recommended  them  to  all  his  friends!" 

"  He  loved  them  to  sell  them " 

"  Per  Dio  1    Do  not  say  so !»» 

"  Do  not  say  so  ?  I  will  say  so  while  I  have  breath 
enough.  What,  do  you  think  the  shameful  rumor  of 
the  death  of  this  bad,  villanous  dog,  never  reached  me  ? 
Did  he  not  die  with  bursting  into  infamous  laughter  on 
hearing  of  some  disgraceful  stories  of  his  sisters  in  Ve- 
nice ?  Go,  you  are  corrupt  to  the  very  bone.  Go,  eat 

epigrams,  in  the  true  meaning  of  the  word  (since  the  ancients  meant 
by  epigrams  those  funeral  inscriptions,  full  of  contumelies,  written  for 
men  yet  living),  which  Paolo  Giovio  and  Pietro  Aretino  exchanged. 
Giovio  said : 

Qui  giace  1'Aretin,  poeta  Tosco : 
Di  tutti  disse  mal,  fuorchd  di  Crist  o, 
Scusandosi  col  dir :  non  lo  conosco. 

Here  Aretino  lies,  in  many  a  poem 

Who  railed  at  all  mankind  save  Jesus  Christ, 

And  this  was  his  excuse :  I  do  not  know  him. 

And  Aretino  replied  with  this : 

Qui  giace  il  Giovio,  storicone  altissimo, 
Di  tutti  disse  mal,  fuorchfi  dell'  osino, 
Scusandosi  col  dur,  egli  e  mio  prossimo. 

Here  Giovio  lies,  historian  widely  known, 

All  he  defamed,  except  the  Ass  alone  ; 

And  when  his  friends,  astonished,  asked  him  why  f 

He  is  my  next  of  kin,  was  his  reply. 


i88  Isabella  Orsini. 

the  bread  of  blood :  I  swear  to  die  of  hunger  first :  go, 
keep  your  faith,  and  I  mine.  When  your  last  hour 
comes  you  will  see  at  your  pillow  the  devil,  who  will 
erase  the  baptismal  mark  from  your  brow:  I  hope  to 
see  my  virtuous  and  beloved  wife,  my  good  children, 
and  the  peace  of  angels.  Let  us  part ;  you  go  alone  to 
the  Orsini  palace." 

"You  see,  I  should  get  into  a  passion  with  you, 
and  let  you  know  that  Titta  never  suffers  an  insult ;  but 
I  also  learnt  this  from  the  Divine,  fortunate  are  they 
who  proclaim  the  truth,  if  they  do  not  get  stoned.  I 
will  say  at  the  palace,  you  are  ill,  or  something  else ;  I 
will  frame  an  excuse  to  leave  you  time  to  give  rest  to 
your  brain,  and  return  to-morrow  to  your  usual  post." 

"Thanks;  I  do  not  mean  to  return,  and  shah1  not. 
Titta !  come  here.  Look,  that  is  my  house :  I  was  born 
and  brought  up  in  it.  Titta !  do  you  not  see  a  light  in 
the  window  ?  Tell  me ;  my  eyes  are  full  of  tears,  and  do 
not  see  clearly.  Holy  Virgin !  Is  there  not  a  woman  in 
the  balcony  ?  Do  I  see  right  or  wrong,  Titta  ?  " 

"  You  see  right ;  there  certainly  is  a  woman  there." 

"  Oh,  it  is  my  Mary !  Poor  woman,  she  is  waiting  for 
me  !  "Who  knows  how  many  nights  she  has  passed  at 
that  window !  Oh,  what  joy  to  see  my  dear  kind  Mary 
again ! " 

Thus  exclaiming,  he  set  out  at  such  a  rate  that  a  wild 
goat  could  not  have  kept  pace  with  him.  Titta  tried  to 
recal  him  in  vain,  crying,  "  Cecchino,  stop ;  Cecchino, 
hear ! " 

But  he  ran  faster  than  ever»  Weary  and  hot,  Cec- 
chino reached  the  door  of  his  house,  and  scarcely  had 
he  called  in  a  breathless  voice,  Mary ! — before  the  woman 


Jealousy.  1 89 

replied, — Cecchino  ! — and  with  a  cry  of  joy  disappeared 
from  the  balcony  and  descended  the  stairs.  In  a  few 
moments  the  street  door  opened,  and  these  two  beings  . 
rushed  into  each  other's  arms,  mingling  tears,  kisses,  and 
sobs,  with  such  unrestrained  passion,  as  to  have  caused 
deep  emotion  to  any  spectator. 

Titta  came  up  soon  after,  but  found  the  door  shut 
and  bolted ;  he  thought  he  would  knock,  but  refrained, 
saying : 

"  I  might  as  well  knock  at  the  door  of  a  churchyard, 
and  wait  until  our  first  father,  Adam,  came  to  open  to 
me.  Requiem  ceternam  dona  eis,  Domim.  Cecchino 
has  certainly  shown  himself  a  fool.  There  is  no  use  in 
getting  anything  out  of  him.  God  knows  if  I've  not 
tried  to  do  the  best  I  could  for  him,  as  if  he  were  my 
own  son,  and  even  tried  to  make  a  scholar  of  him.  See 
now  how  a  woman  has  upset  the  whole.  It  is  useless ! 
until  the  women  are  taken  out  of  it,  and  men  are  not 
grafted  like  plum  trees,  the  world  will  go  on  from  bad 
to  worse.  But  he  is  young ;  and  young  blood  must 
have  its  way ;  to-morrow  he  will  come  back,  a  little  cast 
down  perhaps,  but  he  will  soon  come  back.  Now,  I 
must  see  to  everything  alone ;  but  I  will  eat  first,  and 
then  go  to  bed,  and  sleep  as  long  as  I  please.  And  will 
my  Lord  Paolo  Giordano  wait  ?  Certainly  he  must 
wait !  I  have  no  need  of  him  :  these  masters  expect  us 
to  be  good  and  bad ;  amiable  and  quarrelsome  ;  faithful 
and  traitors ;  stupid  and  wise ;  angels  and  devils ;  then, 
never  to  eat,  never  to  dress,  and  never  to  ask  questions : 
in  short,  if  a  servant  possessed  half  the  qualities  a  master 
asks  in  him,  there  never  would  be  so  poor  a  one  that  did 
not  deserve  to  have  for  servant  a  Marquis  at  least. 


igo  Isabella  Orsini. 

Besides,  what  use  is  it  to  watch  ?  Julia  must  be  in  the 
house.  In  less  than  five  minutes  I  shall  know  more  than 
I  can  remember  or  repeat ;  and  even  without  so  much 
loss  of  breath,  if  I  choose  to  play  the  lover  to  her,  who 
will  dispute  it  ?  Certainly  not  she  ;  our  bond  is  lasting 
and  strong ;  not  limited,  nor  barren ;  we,  instead  of  the 
individual,  love  the  whole  race  :  she,  all  the  men ;  I,  all 
the  women ;  in  this  way  there  is  no  distance,  no  absence 
for  us ;  we  are  always  present,  always  in  love ;  we  are 
like  pearls  of  the  same  necklace ;  we  make  a  garland  of 
every  flower  and  crown  our  life  with  it.  One  flower  does 
not  make  Spring  ;  love  is  not  comprised  in  one  single 
affection."  With  these  ideas  revolving  in  his  mind, 
Titta  turned  from  Cecchino's  house,  delaying  no  longer 
his  arrival  at  the  palace. 

I  return  more  willingly  now  to  Cecchino  and  Mary. 
Embracing  each  other  and  happy,  they  mounted,  or 
rather  flew,  up  the  staircase,  resembling  two  doves, 
hastening  with  outspread  wings  to  their  sweet  nest.  On 
reaching  the  room  above  they  renewed  their  tender 
greetings :  one  questioned  the  other,  and  the  other  in 
reply  questioned  in  turn ;  and  not  waiting  for  replies 
they  poured  forth  a  torrent  of  words  burning  with 
curiosity  and  passion.  But  this  singular  colloquy  at  last 
ceased,  and  laughing  heartily,  they  exchanged  kisses 
again.  Mary,  with  sparkling  eyes  and  blushing  cheeks, 
first  spoke :  "  Come,  you  are  covered  with  dust  and 
perspiration ;  let  me  bring  water  to  wash  your  hands 
and  face." 

And  she  brought  a  basin  of  water ;  singing  as  happily 
as  if  it  were  a  sunny  noon,  and  not  midnight ;  she  then 
opened  a  chest-of-drawers,  bianging  out  a  towel  of  clean- 


Jealousy.  191 

est  linen,  fragrant  with  cassia  flowers,  assisting  him  in 
drying  his  face  and  hands  upon  it.  Nor  did  her  attention 
stop  here,  for  a  good  wife  is  the  dearest  joy  of  a  man's 
heart ;  but  she  sat  down,  and  taking  Cecchino's  head  in 
her  lap,  combed  his  hair  nicely,  freeing  it  of  the  dust, 
and  arranging  it  smoothly  around  his  neck.  Then 
raising  his  head  with  both  hands,  looked  smilingly  in 
his  face,  exulting  as  a  good  and  virtuous  wife  should,  in 
a  valiant,  handsome  husband,  saying  truly  from  her 
heart,  as  she  kissed  his  brow : 

"  You  look  to  me  like  an  angel."  .  . 

"  But  this  angel,"  replied  Cecchino,  "  not  being  as  yet 
divested  of  its  earthly  clothing,  is  as  hungry  as  one  of 
Adam's  children  even  can  be." 

"  Indeed  ?  I  did  not  know  you  wanted  anything. 
Why  did  you  not  say  so  before  ?  Do  not  think  you  take 
me  unprovided.  You  may  find  but  little  in  your  house, 
but  enough  to  satisfy  your  wants." 

"  What  could  I  do  ?  We  have  travelled  more  than 
fifty  miles  without  stopping.  We  arrived  to-night,  and 
never  until  we  got  here  did  we  stop  long  enough  to  wet 
our  lips." 

"  But  did  you  not  come  with  the  Duke  ?" 

"  Yes,  but  it  is  not  to  be  known.  He  did  not  stop  at 
the  palace.  But  more  of  this  by-and-by." 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  by-and-by." 

She  then  set  the  table  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  not 
on  account  of  the  few  dishes  and  little  food  she  put  upon 
it,  but  because  of  the  great  haste  she  made.  The  Floren- 
tines then  had  the  reputation  of  being  beyond  measure 
frugal  and  parsimonious,  well  becoming  all  those  who 
live  honestly ;  and  they  still  have  it.  Certainly  they  once 


192  Isabella  Orsini. 

were  so  ;  but  it  is  not  to  be  believed  they  suffered  from 
it ;  and  even  by  the  laws  called  financial,  often  renewed, 
and  strenuously  enforced,  we  learn  that  civil  parsimony 
did  not  spring  up  spontaneously,  but  in  consequence  of 
continual  laws :  we  learn  also  that  the  statute  allowed 
for  dinner  two  viands  alone,  the  roast  and  boiled,  but 
the  Florentines  eluded  it  very  easily  by  using  various 
kinds  of  boiled  and  roasted  meats,  for  the  only  boiled 
and  roasted  one  prescribed  by  the  statute.  As  to  dress, 
Franco  Sacchetti  has  recorded  in  his  very  pleasing 
novel,  the  great  cunning  shown  by  the  ladies,  by  which 
the  judges  could  never  catch  them  transgressing,  or 
even  succeed  in  applying  the  laws  to  them.  And  when 
persons  of  high  rank  came  to  Florence,  the  citizens  who 
entertained  them  paid  the  fine  and  displayed  royal 
magnificence.  The  records  of  that  time  describe  the 
manner  Lorenzo  the  Magnificent  entertained  Frances- 
chetto  Cibo  and  his  Court,  when  he  came  to  marry  his 
daughter  ;  and  this  description  serves  to  show  how  old 
is  the  fashion  in  all  those  who  attempt  to  destroy  the 
liberty  of  their  country,  in  studiously  observing  ap- 
pearances, in  order  to  sharpen  the  axe  to  cut  the  sub- 
stance. But  then  the  chests  were  full  of  golden  florins, 
the  commerce  great,  industry  wonderful,  enterprises 
prodigious ;  and  in  those  times  designs  were  conceived 
and  executed,  that  nowadays  astonish  us  only  to  look 
at.  Unjust  then  is  the  reputation  that  now  exists  of 
Florentine  avarice ;  a  recent  testimony  to  it,  we  find  in 
the  satires  of  D'Elci,  where  he  says : 

a  te  torno,  o  mia  frugal  Firenze, 

Dove  avarizia  ha  splentfide  apparenze. 


Jealousy.  1 93 

Many  confirm  this,  but,  as  is  often  the  case,  rather 
upon  the  assertion  of  others  than  from  real  observation. 
The  demon  of  luxury  and  idleness  rules  the  Florentines 
at  the  present  time :  like  all  the  other  nations  of  Europe, 
I  will  not  say  that  they  do  not  believe,  but  they  trust 
little  to  a  celestial  Paradise ;  they  have  built  a  new 
terrestrial  one  without  the  tree  of  knowledge.  It 
matters  little,  if  they  pluck  flowers  of  a  day  and  let 
them  wither ;  as  long  as  they  are  renewed,  it  is  enough; 
whatever  endures,  wearies  ;  to  live  and  enjoy  comprises 
the  extreme  limit  of  their  wishes.  Once  the  age 
doubted  between  good  and  evil ;  and  this  was  surely  a 
great  labor  for  both  heart  and  brain,  yet  the  labor  itself 
gave  a  proof  of  life :  now  the  age  believes,  yes,  believes, 
but  its  belief  is  not  in  the  good.  We  all  live  as  if  the 
physician  had  given  us  over ;  and  it  would  seem  as  if 
we  feared  that  to-morrow  the  heavens  might  not  cover 
the  earth:  no  more  pyramids,  no  more  obelisks;  the 
longest  work  we  dare  to  undertake  is  making  a  garland 
of  flowers :  the  spider's  web  seems  too  secular  a  thing, 
we  form  ourselves  into  a  number  of  beings  born  to 
devour  the  wheat.  Let  us  then  adorn  the  brows  of  our 
heroes  with  poppies,  let  sleep  be  the  Epic  of  our  age, 
yawning  its  history.  Greater  life  awaits  us  in  the  grave 
than  on  this  earth,  at  least  during  the  period  of  putre- 
faction. No  one  can  give  us  reasonable  reproof:  we 
are  for  the  age,  the  age  for  us  :  the  niche  and  the  saint 
harmonize  wonderfully.  Why  wear  ourselves  out  in 
procuring  a  fame  we  hate  ?  Why  attend  to  studies 
which  make  us  doubt  an  existence,  which  we  with  all 
kinds  of  violence  try  to  steep  in  oblivion  ?  Our 
children  will  grow  up  worse  or  better  than  ourselves : 

9 


194  Isabella  Orsini. 

if  worse,  every  argument  will  be  in  vain ;  if  1  etter, 
they  will  be  ashamed  of  our  miseries.  Better  then  to 
sleep,  be  silent,  enjoy,  and  die.  This  is  truly  the  triumph 
of  death ! 

Two  plates  were  placed  opposite  each  other  upon  the 
table.  All  was  ready,  and  yet  Cecchino  seemed  to  have 
no  desire  to  taste  the  food  he  had  craved ;  he  kept  his 
face  turned  towards  the  head  of  the  table,  and  all  at 
once  a  tear  trickled  down  his  cheek,  and  he  gave  vent 
to  a  deep  sigh. 

His  wife,  seeing  this  sudden  despondency,  said  anx- 
iously : 

"  Holy  Virgin !  What  is  the  matter  ?  What  troubles 
you,  my  dear  ?  Tell  me  quickly,  do  not  keep  anything 
from  your  poor  wife.  .  .  ." 

"  Ah  !  Mary,  do  you  not  remember  when  last  seated 
at  this  table  we  were  three  ?" 

A  long  silence  succeeded  these  words  ;  Mary  was  the 
first  to  break  it : 

"Mother  Laudomia  has  certainly  gone  to  heaven. 
With  how  much  joy  did  she  see  her  last  hour  ap- 
proach ?  How  she  talked  with  saints,  who  seemed  near 
her,  to  assist  in  her  soul's  transition.  This  life  had  be- 
come a  burden  to  her ;  the  sweet  light  of  day  no  longer 
cheered  her  loving  eyes ;  and  your  mother,  Cecchino, 
would  never  have  seen  your  face  again.  She  died  as  a 
bride  going  to  her  nuptials,  and  happy  in  knowing  you 
so  well  trained  in  the  way  of  the  Lord,  that  nothing 
would  ever  cause  you  to  forsake  it.  Her  last  thought 
was  God's,  her  last  but  one  yours.  Tell  him — she  en- 
joined upon  me  in  her  last  words — tell  him  I  bless  him, 
tell  him  his  children  shall  honor  him,  because  he  was 


Jealousy.  1 95 

kind  to  his  mother ;  and  at  last,  when  weary  of  life,  his 
mother  shall  await  him  in  heaven.  Therefore  be  com- 
forted, and  do  not  give  way  to  sorrow.  .  .  ." 

"  Certainly  the  good  woman  was  old,  and  is  now  a 
dweller  in  a  heavenly  home  ;  but  it  would  have  been  a 
great  comfort  to  me  if  I  could  have  seen  her  again  .  .  ." 

"  And  how  do  we  know  but  while  we  are  talking  she 
is  near  us  ?  If,  as  we  believe,  we  are  soul  and  body, 
and  that  the  soul  feels  love,  may  not  God  grant  it  to 
return  and  visit  persons  and  places  that  were  dear  to  it 
in  this  world?  Console  yourself,  Cecchino;  for  time 
passes,  and  it  is  not  always  the  worst  thing  to  die, 
sometimes  it  is  to  live.  .  .  ." 

Cecchino  at  last  began  to  eat,  but  the  desire  for  food 
had  passed,  so  that  the  repast  was  soon  finished ;  per- 
haps he  drank,  however,  more  than  he  meant.  His 
Avife,  partly  through  curiosity,  and  partly  to  distract 
his  sad  thoughts,  turned  the  conversation  upon  the 
Duke. 

"  The  Duke  has  arrived,  then  ?" 

"  He  has ;  but  I  must  look  out  for  employment  else- 
where ?" 

"  Why ;  has  he  sent  you  away  ?" 

"  No,  I  left  on  my  own  account.  .  .  .  But  you  shall 
hear  :  although  I  know  it  is  best  not  to  trust  secrets  to 
women's  ears,  yet  having  always  found  you  faithful  and 
discreet,  I  will  hide  nothing  from  you.  The  Duke  has 
come,  and,  as  I  believe,  with  bad  intentions.  We  en- 
tered Florence  mysteriously,  and  silently,  by  night ;  he 
talked  a  long  time  with  his  brother-in-law,  and  went 
cautiously  afterwards  to  some  rooms  in  the  Casino  of  St. 
Marco ;  hu  remained  there  alone,  sending  me  with  an- 


196  Isabella  Orsini. 

other  follower  to  tell  Lady  Isabella  that  to-morrow,  or 
the  day  after,  he  would  arrive :  meanwhile  we  were  to 
watch  every  word  and  deed,  then  come  and  report  it 
carefully  to  him.  .  .  ." 

"  For  what  reason  ?" 

"  The  reason  is  plain  enough,"  replied  Cecchino,  low- 
ering his  voice  ;  "  the  rumor  of  Lady  Isabella's  way  of 
life  has  reached  as  far  as  Rome ;  I  firmly  believe  that 
he  has  come  to  avenge  his  honor  in  the  blood  of  his 
wife ;  and  I  would  not  give  a  ducat  for  the  Duchess's 
life  from  this  time." 

"But  is  there  no  way  of  saving  this  unfortunate  lady?" 

"  None ;  for  it  seems  her  brothers  want  to  punish  her 
more  than  her  husband  ;  besides,  she  should  receive  the 
penalty  due  to  her  crime  ;  and  if  I,  instead  of  going  to 
spy  her  actions,  thus  becoming  a  participator  in  her 
death,  staining  my  hands  with  her  blood,  have  chosen 
to  take  voluntary  leave  of  the  Duke,  I  do  not  for  that 
feel  disposed  to  run  any  danger  for  one  who  does  not 
deserve  it." 

"  Oh,  how  can  you  talk  so  ?  Then  the  fair  name  of  a 
noble  lady  may  be  in  the  power  of  the  first  low  fellow 
who  chooses  to  contaminate  it  ?  Do  you  think  that 
merely  the  slanderous  charge  of  so  grievous  a  crime 
must  be  revenged  by  so  cruel  a  punishment  ?" 

"  Conviction  has  no  need  of  witnesses  or  instruments  : 
and  when  the  people  speak,  God  has  spoken :  if  it  is  not 
a  wolf,  it  is  the  shadow  of  one." 

"And  supposing  I  allow,  although  against  my  will, 
that  she  is  guilty,  tell  me,  who  has  given  the  Duke  a 
right  upon  the  life  of  his  wife  ?  Has  this  judge  a  clear 
conscience  ?  Is  the  accuser  himself  innocent  ?  Has 


Jealousy.  197 

this  priest  pure  hands  ?  And  if  he  is  not  innocent,  why 
dares  he  to  judge  and  condemn  in  others  the  guilt  he 
has  himself  committed  ?" 

"  Oh !  it  is  a  far  different  thing  in  a  man  than  in  a  wo- 
man. She  brings  children  into  the  family  that  should 
never  be  there,  divides  property  among  persons  with 
whom  it  should  never  be  shared  :  the  suspected  illegiti- 
mate child  is  shunned  by  all ;  they  scorn  him,  and  he 
hates  them ;  and  we  have  too  often  seen  that  these  bad 
buds  bring  forth  in  families  bloody  fruits." 

"  That  is  not  so ;  for  do  you  ever  see  a  man  who 
bringing  forth  children  out  of  a  house,  abandons  them  ? 
And  if  he  does,  the  world  blames  him,  and  his  con- 
science reproves  him  for  it ;  and  if  he  provides  for  them, 
does  he  not  unjustly  diminish  the  property  of  his  legiti- 
mate children  ?  No ;  equal  are  the  duties,  equal  is  the 
crime,  and  equal  should  be  the  pardon  or  the  punish- 
ment." 

"  Yet  it  is  not  so,  and  I  do  not  believe  as  you  say. 
There  must  be  a  reason  for  it,  although  I  do  not  know 
one. . . ." 

"  Listen,  you  cannot  find  one,  because  there  is  none  ; 
if  there  was,  it  would  come  into  your  mind  spon- 
taneously. Thinking  within  myself,  I  have  seen  that 
the  world  rests  upon  certain  principles,  called  truths : 
some  of  them  you  can  see  and  touch;  and  great 
scholars  as  well  as  fools  agree  to  them,  and  say — it  is 
right ; — others,  though,  are  not  understood,  they  seem 
like  alchemy,  and  we  must  distil  our  brains  over  them 
to  make  them  comprehensible.  The  first  seem  to  me 
lawful  money,  the  second  spurious ;  the  first  comes  from 
nature,  the  second  from  artifice." 


198  Isabella  Orsini. 

"  Ah !  good  women  should  not  reason  so  skilfully, 
but  obey  the  laws  men  make  for  them. . ." 

"  A  violent  law,  an  unjust  judge,  a  wicked  punish- 
ment." 

"  In  God's  truth,  you  have  become  such  a  reasoner, 
that  I  am  afraid.  Who  put  such  immodest  words  into 
your  mouth  ?" 

"  Reason. . ." 

"Or  perhaps  the  necessity  of  defending  your  own 
evil  deeds  ?"  And  maddened  by  anger,  Cecchmo  took 
a  knife  from  the  table,  and  passing  it  through  the  table- 
cloth, stuck  it  nearly  an  inch  into  the  table.  Poor 
Mary,  excited  in  favor  of  her  mistress,  took  no  notice 
of  this  ;  but  with  obstinate  petulance  continued  : — 
"What  deeds  are  you  imagining?  I  tell  you  there 
should  not  be  two  weights  and  two  measures,  and  there 
are  not. . ." 

"  It  is  well.  Although  I  have  no  other  proof  of  your 
own  baseness,  and  the  Duchess's  also,  than  your  pre- 
sent boldness,  it  would  be  enough  for  me,  perhaps 
too  much.  Were  these  the  joys,  these  the  greet- 
ings and  the  kisses,  I  looked  for  ?  Alas,  miserable 
man  ! . . ." 

Mary,  struck  by  the  changed  aspect  of  her  husband, 
asked  what  sudden  thought  had  troubled  him ;  but  he 
paid  not  attention  to  her,  and,  like  a  man  bewildered,  he 
murmured  threateningly : 

"  Ah !  Titta,  your  words  were  true  as  gospel. — And 
I  was  going  with  so  much  joy  to  meet  a  beloved  wife  ! 
Better  for  me  if  I  had  broken  my  legs ;  were  husbands 
watch-dogs  they  never  could  be  able  to  guard  their 
wives: — the  thieves  would  enter  by  the  roof.  I  will 


Jealousy,  1 99 

kill  myself:  everything  in  the  world  is  over  for  me. 
But  you  need  not  rejoice  in  my  death,  Mary ; — No,  I 
vow  to  God  my  curse  shall  cleave  to  you  like  marrow 
hi  the  bone.  You  have  betrayed  me,  you  shall  be 
betrayed ;  unhappy  days,  a  dark  life  and  bitter  death 
await  you " 

In  the  midst  of  these  laments,  which  passion  drew 
from  him,  the  noise  of  a  child  crying  was  heard  in  the 
next  room,  and  an  infantile  voice  called  : — 

"  Mama ! — Mama !" 

Cecchino's  hair  stood  upright  on  his  head  like  the 
quills  of  a  porcupine,  his  face  was  pale  as  a  sheet,  and 
then  turned  as  red  as  fire  ;  his  lips  trembled  convulsively, 
his  eyes  gleamed  with  evil  passion,  and  overcome  by  a 
brutal  rage  he  seized  Mary  by  the  arm,  and  dragged  her 
into  the  next  room.  Scarcely  had  they  passed  the  thres- 
hold than  a  little  child  on  the  bed  sat  up,  and  stretching 
its  little  hands  joyfully  towards  Mary,  cried  again : 

"  Mama ! — Mama !" 

Cecchino,  pale  with  rage,  pushed  Mary  with  so  much 
force  from  him  that  she  fell  against  the  bed,  and  upon 
the  child. 

Overcome  by  surprise,  anger,  fear,  and  by  the  turn 
of  affairs,  she  could  not  utter  a  word :  but  her  anger 
soon  gave  place  to  pity.  Her  heart  was  almost  broken 
by  so  many  conflicting  emotions :  she  glided  from  the 
bed,  and  knelt  down,  crossing  her  hands  humbly,  before 
her  angry  husband.  But  he,  becoming  more  enraged  at 
this  act,  muttered : 

"  No . . .  you  must  die  ...  we  must  all  die . . .  there 
is  no  pity ...  I  want  none  for  myself. . .  think  then  if 
you  deserve  it ...  or  this  viper. . ." 


2oo  Isabella  Orsini. 


Mary  sobbed : 

"  Cecchino ! . . .  Cecchino  ! . . .  hear  me," — but  could 
say  no  more. 

"  Prepare  to  die . . .  you  have  one  hour . . .  half  an 
hour ; . . .  no, . . .  only  five  minutes  of  life  . . ." 

"  Hear  me, ...  let  me  speak. . . ." 

"  Make  your  peace  with  God  ;  .  . .  but  it  is  useless ; 
traitors  cannot  enter  heaven. . .  " 

"  I  cannot. . ." 

"  Have  you  finished  ?" 

Mary,  in  agony,  unable  to  utter  a  single  word,  made 
n  sign  of  denial  with  her  hand ;  and  its  expression  was 
indescribable.  Ineffable  sorrow  oppressed  her  to  think 
that  a  few  words  might  calm  this  tempest,  soothe  the 
anger,  save  so  many  dear  lives,  and  yet  she  could  not 
utter  a  word.  Cecchino,  as  if  possessed  with  a  devil, 
impatient  of  delay,  his  passions  becoming  more  cruel  in 
the  thought  of  bloodshed,  could  hardly  wait,  so  anxious 
was  he  to  stain  his  hands  with  her  blood.  Poor 
woman ! 

"  If  you  are  not  anxious  to  end  this,  know  that  I  am 
eager  to  begin. . ." 

Unsheathing  his  dagger,  he  stretched  out  his  hand  to 
grasp  her.  Mary,  uttering  a  cry,  fell  senseless  to  the 
ground.  Cecchino,  his  heart  closed  to  pity,  did  not 
wait ;  he  bent  down  to  plunge  his  dagger  in  her  bosom, 
and  tearing  her  clothes  aside,  saw  with  wonder  a  letter 
drop  from  them :  fancying  it  might  be  from  the  hated 
betrayer  of  his  happiness,  he  was  glad  to  think  that  now 
his  revenge  might  reach  even  him.  Taking  up  the  letter 
and  drawing  nearer  to  the  light,  he  read  on  the  out- 
side : 


Jealousy.  201 

"  To  Her  most  Christian  Majesty,  Catherine,  Queen 
of  France." 

He  thought  he  dreamed :  he  looked  again ;  it  was 
the  same  as  before.  He  then  opened  the  letter,  and  read : 

"  Most  Honored  as  a  Mother : — Considering  the  hei- 
nousness  of  my  sins,  and  the  punishment  that  may  befall 
me  on  this  earth,  striving  to  obtain  through  God's 
infinite  mercy  that  pardon  which  I  humbly  beg  with  all 
my  mind,  I  have  decided  not  to  avoid  the  fate,  whatever 
it  may  be,  which  Providence  prepares  for  me.  But  in 
following  this  decision,  which  my  guardian  angel  seems 
to  have  awakened  within  me,  I  cannot,  nor  ought  I  to 
include  in  my  ruin  an  innocent  being,  and  one  most 
worthy  of  commiseration.  I  therefore  confide  this  child 
of  my  sorrow  to  your  pity  :  remember  that  its  cradle  is 
girded  by  serpents,  and  its  life  is  like  the  life  of  a  wild 
beast  of  the  woods,  which  every  man  thinks  he  has  a 
right  and  a  reason  to  pursue.  No  less  than  the  prudence 
and  authority  of  a  wise  and  powerful  Queen  like  yourself 
is  necessary  to  save  this  miserable  being :  except  that  I 
have  good  cause  to  hope  in  the  woman  to  whom  I  trust 
this  child :  she  leaves  country,  home,  and  kindred,  to 
console  me  with  brief  comfort,  in  order  to  consign  him 
to  your  Royal  Highness's  care,  as  his  surest  haven  of 
safety.  This  woman  is  my  foster  sister :  born  and 
educated  in  the  way  of  the  Lord,  I  cast  her  off  in  my 
hour  of  sin,  and  she  returns  voluntarily  to  me  in  that 
of  misfortune.  The  urgency  of  the  case  not  admitting 
of  delay,  she  sets  out  alone  by  my  eager  request ;  but  I 
Avill  strive  to  have  her  dear  husband  join  her  shortly. 
Both  young  and  faithful,  deserving  of  the  kindness  of 

9* 


2O2  Isabella  Orsini. 

your  Royal  Highness,  I  pray  you  to  give  them  the 
greatest  favors  which  your  royal  heart  is  so  ready  to 
bestow  on  all,  and  especially  to  those  who  in  the  service 
of  your  kindred  and  royal  family  assume  a  responsibility 
in  manifest  danger  of  their  own  property  and  lives.  I 
have  no  more  to  say,  except  to  beg  your  Highness,  for 
the  love  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Saviour,  to  take  under  your 
protection  this  miserable  being.  God  will  give  you 
that  reward  wrhich  I  cannot.  Look  upon  these  words, 
your  Majesty,  as  on  the  dying  ones  of  a  relative ; — this 
is  my  testament ; — and  with  this  faith  to  die  resigned 
and  contrite,  who  would  else  have  ended  her  life 
despairing  and  blaspheming.  When  your  Highness 
shall  have  received  the  news  of  my  death,  which  I  foresee 
is  inevitable,  be  pleased  to  remember  me  in  your  prayers, 
and  aid  my  soul.  I  wish  you  in  this  world  all  that  hap- 
piness which  your  glorious  mind  and  magnanimous 
heart  knows  so  well  how  to  create ;  and  kissing  your 
hands  I  sign  myself  a  most  unworthy,  but  yet  affectionate 
child  of  your  Majesty, 

"  ISABELLA,  DUCHESS  OF  BRACCIANO." 

Cecchino  perceived  his  error  before  coming  to  the  end 
of  this  epistle,  his  anger  departed,  and  his  heart,  having 
experienced  so  many  passions,  gave  way  in  a  burst  of 
tears.  He  put  the  letter  aside  ;  he  had  already  thrown 
his  dagger  away,  and  turning  with  tearful  eyes  towards 
Mary,  raised  her  head,  calling  her  by  a  thousand  en- 
dearing names.  But  the  poor  woman  gave  no  sign  of 
life,  and  in  her  fall  had  struck  so  heavily  that  she  had 
bruised  the  skin  behind  her  ear,  causing  it  to  bleed.  It 
seemed  for  a  moment  as  if  Cecchino  was  about  to  faint : 


Jealousy.  203 

but  the  thought  of  providing  for  his  wife's  safety  sus- 
tained him  :  he  carefully  bound  up  the  wound,  placed 
her  upon  the  bed,  and  tried  to  restore  her  with  water, 
vinegar,  burnt  feathers,  and  all  such  means ;  but  she  did 
not  revive.  He  then  broke  forth  hi  laments;  sighed 
and  raised  his  eyes  beseechingly  towards  heaven. 
Desperate  at  last  he  lay  down  by  her  side,  embracing 
her,  and  bathing  her  with  tears,  covering  her  face  with 
kisses,  and  exclaiming  between  his  sobs : 

"  Oh,  God,  let  me  die  by  her  side  !" 

But  God  intended  him  no  such  misfortune,  and  scarce- 
ly had  he  proffered  these  words,  before  Mary,  uttering 
a  deep  sigh,  opened  her  eyes,  forgetful  of  what  had  oc- 
curred. Cecchino  knelt  before  her,  not  daring  to  open 
liis  mouth  ;  and  Mary,  by  degrees,  began  to  recollect 
past  events,  sat  up,  and  seeing  the  letter,  guarded  so 
jealously  by  her,  open,  turned  towards  Cecchino,  and, 
smiling  languidly,  said : 

"  Of  little  faith,  why  did  you  doubt  ?" 

Then  looking  towards  the  window,  and  seeing  the 
stars,  added : 

"  Cecchino,  we  have  no  time  to  lose.  They  will  come 
for  us  in  a  few  moments.  While  I  dress  the  child  you 
must  pack  your  own  clothes,  and  sew  the  gold  and 
jewels  of  the  Duchess  among  them :  all  the  rest  is  pro- 
vided." 

Cecchino,  having  no  will  of  his  own,  passively  obeyed 
her  orders :  so  many,  so  various,  and  so  deep  had  been 
the  passions  he  had  experienced  in  such  a  short  tune, 
that  he  felt  almost  annihilated ;  but  whatever  faculty  of 
thinking  and  wishing  still  remained  to  him,  would  not 
have  been  opposed  to  the  desires  of  his  wife,  who,  ani- 


204  Isabella  Orsini. 

mated  by  the  spirit  of  charity,  sacrifice,  and  love,  ap- 
peared to  him  a  being  more  akin  to  angels  than  mortals. 
He  loved  and  worshipped  her  as  something  holy.  Of 
such,  and  so  sudden  transitions  is  the  mind  capable  in 
this  world !  Miserable  intellects  in  the  power  of  passion, 
like  a  fragile  skiff  agitated  by  the  tempestuous  ocean, 
we  weep,  we  laugh,  and,  but  this  is  more  important,  we 
pass  on  to  deeds,  which  as  they  take  from  us  the  dig- 
nity of  men,  and  peace  of  mind,  also  render  us  in  this 
life  deserving  of  the  scorn  of  men,  and  in  the  next  of 
God's  disdain. 

Mary  was  not  deceived ;  for  a  short  time  had  scarcely 
elapsed  before  two  men  appeared  at  the  house  door, 
knocking  cautiously,  and  saying  in  a  low  voice  to  Cec- 
chino,  who  opened  the  window,  to  come  down,  for  all 
was  ready.  Mary  went  first  with  the  child ;  Cecchino 
followed  with  a  chest  containing  a  few  clothes.  Taking 
the  first  step  out  of  the  door  he  turned  back,  sighing : 

"  I  leave  you,  never  to  see  you  again  !" 

When  they  had  all  descended,  Mary,  wondering  not 
to  see  Cecchino  by  her  side,  called  him,  and  was  about 
to  go  back,  when  he  came  hastily,  and  said  hi  a  low  tone  : 

"  I  remembered  my  mother's  rosary  at  the  head  of 
the  bed,  and  went  back  for  it.  If  it  had  belonged  to 
your  mother  you  would  not  have  forgotten  it." 

Mary  pressed  his  hand,  for  she  knew  she  had  no  de- 
fence, but  the  accusation  pleased  her. 

They  walked  some  distance  hi  silence,  and  fbund  a 
carriage  waiting  for  them  near  the  corner  of  the  Giglio, 
behind  St.  Lorenzo  ;  they  entered  it,  and  drove  towards 
the  gate  San  Frediano.  As  they  drew  near  it,  one  of 
the  men  descended,  and  calling  the  gatekeeper,  ex- 


Jealousy.  205 

changed  a  few  words  with  him,  whereupon  he  opened 
the  gate.  Then,  turning  back,  told  his  companion  to 
descend,  adding : 

"You  can  go  on  now — pleasant  journey — God  be 
with  you." 

Mary  had  already  guessed,  and  the  dawn  which  be- 
gan to  appear  confirmed  her  supposition,  this  man  was 
the  Knight  Lionardo  Salviati ;  she,  therefore,  took  cou- 
rage to  call  to  him,  saying : 

"  Do  me  the  favor  of  listening  one  moment,  Sir  ?" 

And  the  Knight  stopped  to  listen. 

"  Sir  Lionardo,"  she  murmured  in  his  ear,  "  when  you 
see  her,  assure  her  that  the  child  is  safe :  tell  her  also 
my  husband  is  with  me,  and  she  need  trouble  herself  no 
more  about  it.  Save  her,  if  you  can,  for  her  death 
without  your  aid  is  certain.  The  property  I  have  left 
behind  me,  please  tell  your  friend  Don  Silvano  to  sell, 
and  use  it  all  in  masses  for  the  dead  and  .  .  .  for  the 
dead,  according  to  my  desire." 

"  It  shall  be  done." 

Sir  Lionardo  then  closing  the  door,  ordered  the  driver 
to  proceed.  Mary,  in  speaking  of  the  dead,  meant  Isa- 
bella !  But  there  still  remaining  to  her  a  very  faint  ray 
of  hope,  she  did  not  wish  to  destroy  it  with  this  sad 
commission  :  but  she  believed  hi  her  heart  that  having 
given  it  for  her  beloved  dead,  she  included  among  them 
the  soul  of  poor  Isabella. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE   CONFESSION. 


Venuta  la  mattina  della  Pasqna,  la  donna  si  Iev6  In  su  1'  anrora  et  acconciossi, 
et  andossene  alia  chiesa. — II  marito  Uall'  altra  parte  levatosi  se  ne  and6  a  quella 
medesima  chiesa,  e  fuvvi  prima  di  lei — e  messasi  prestamente  una  delle  robe  del 
prete  con  un  cappuccio  grande  a  gote,  couio  not  veggiamo  che  1  preti  portano, 
avendosel  tirato  un  poco  innanzi,  si  mlse  a  sedere  In  coro.— Ora  venendo  alia 
confessione,  tra  le  altre  cose  che  la  donna  gli  disse,  avendogli  prima  detto  come 

maritata  era,  si  fu  che  ella  era  inuamorata. Quando  il  geloso  udi  questo, 

gli  parve  che  gli  fosse  dato  di  un  coltello  nel  cuore. 

BOCCACCIO.    Giornata  VII.    Novella  V. 

When  Easter  morning  came,  the  woman  rose  at  dawn,  dressed  herself,  and 

went  to  church The  husband  also  arose,  went  to  the  same  church,  and 

reached  it  before  her He  then  put  on  hastily  one  of  the  priest's  robes 

with  a  large  hood,  such  as  monks  generally  wear,  which  he  pulled  somewhat  down 

over  his  face,  and  sat  in  the  confessional Now  when  the  woman  caine 

to  the  confession,  among  other  things  she  said — that,  although  she  was  .1  married 

woman,  yet  she  was  desperately  in  love When  the  jealous  husband 

heard  this,  he  felt  as  if  struck  by  a  dagger  in  the  middle  of  his  heart 


TITTA  finally  arrived  (since  all,  living  or  dead,  must 
come  to  some  end)  at  the  Duke's  palace :  he  pulled  the 
bell-rope  four  or  five  times,  but  no  one  answered.  "  It 
is  evident,"  he  said  to  himself,  "that  the  husband  is 
away,  and  is  not  expected  home  ;  and  if  husbands  take 
a  notion  to  arrive  suddenly,  they  must  pay  the  penalty 
of  their  rudeness  :  but  I,  not  being  a  husband,  will  not 
wait,  but  put  a  remedy  to  it  at  once." 
And  as  well  as  he  could  he  inserted  his  arm  and  part 


Isabella  Orsini.  207 

of  his  shoulder  between  the  bars  of  the  gate,  and  with 
his  fingers  took  the  latch  and  opened  it.  This  done,  he 
went  softly  to  the  porter's  room,  who,  with  elbows 
stretched  upon  a  table,  and  head  resting  on  the  back  of 
his  hands,  slept  as  soundly  as  a  dormouse.  The  merry 
fellow  taking  the  horn,  approached  it  so  near  the  por- 
ter's ear  as  to  cover  it  entirely,  and  gathering  all  the 
breath  he  could  in  his  strong  lungs,  blew  such  a  power- 
ful blast  as  to  make  the  whole  palace  shake  from  top  to 
bottom.  I  will  not  describe  the  tremendous  scream  the 
porter  uttered,  nor  what  a  leap  he  gave ;  these  are 
tilings  that  can  be  better  imagined  than  described :  he 
Avas  neither  alive  nor  dead ;  he  trembled  all  over,  and 
knew  not  in  what  world  he  was.  Not  a  human  crea- 
ture or  animal  within  the  palace,  or  in  the  street,  could 
remain  quiet  in  bed,  but  ran  startled  to  see  what  was 
the  matter. 

When  Titta  had  collected  nearly  all  the  Duke's  do- 
mestics, he  turned  to  the  majordomo  Don  Inigo,  and 
said  to  him : 

"  I  come  by  the  orders  of  his  Excellency  the  Duke  ;  I 
haA'e  this  moment  arrived  from  Rome,  and  haA~e  a  letter 
which  I  must  immediately  consign  into  the  hands  of  my 
Lady  the  Duchess." 

"  You  cannot  present  yourself  in  such  a  dress  to  our 
lady ;  you  must  clothe  yourself  properly,  and  then  I 
Avill  announce  you." 

He  then  led  him  to  a  Avardrobe,  and  dressing  him  in 
the  Orsini  livery,  left  him  to  wait  until  he  could  be 
announced  to  her  Ladyship  the  Duchess. 

Isabella  slept  not :  sleep  for  a  long  time  had  not 
shaken  its  peaceful  Avings  over  those  unhappy  eyelids ; 


208  The  Confession. 

and  she  would  let  it  pass  without  even  invoking  it,  for 
if  painful  thoughts  oppressed  her  while  awake,  horrible 
phantoms  afflicted  her  still  more  while  asleep.  She  had 
become  now  resigned  to  her  imminent  destiny,  and 
whatever  happened  could  not  disturb  her ;  she  would 
shut  her  eyes,  and  murmur  in  a  low  tone  :  In  manus 
tuas,  Domine,  commendo  spiritum  meum. — She  heard 
the  door  of  her  room  open,  it  seemed  as  if  some  one 
had  asked  her  whether  he  could  come  in,  and  she 
replied  with  a  motion,  without  knowing  herself 
whether  it  was  consent  or  denial,  so  she  was  somewhat 
amazed  when,  reopening  her  eyes,  she  saw  a  man  with 
one  knee  on  the  ground  before  her  presenting  a  letter 
upon  a  crimson  velvet  cushion.  Educated  as  she  was 
in  the  dignified  manners  of  the  Court,  she  took  the 
letter  with  a  certain  princely  haughtiness,  and  read  it ; 
then  handing  it  to  the  majordomo,  said : 

"  Place  it  in  the  archives. — Rise,  sir. — Inigo,  give  this 
soldier  the  usual  courier's  fee ;  and  double  it,  for  the 
news  which  he  brings  is  very  acceptable  to  me.  Don 
Inigo,  in  a  few  days,  after  so  long  an  absence,  we  shall 
see  His  Excellency  the  Duke. — May  God  keep  you  in 
His  holy  guard.  Good  night :  go." 

And  when  they  had  departed,  Isabella,  without  heed- 
ing if  anyone  could  hear  her  words,  rose  from  the  couch 
on  which  she  was  lying,  and  thus  addressed  Lady  Lu- 
crezia  Frescobaldi,  her  lady  in  waiting  : 

"  Lady  Lucrezia,  we  are  ready  to  take  our  departure, 
so  that  it  would  seem  better  for  us  to  be  prepared  by 
taking  the  sacrament." 

Lady  Lucrezia  belonged  to  that  race  of  pale  and 
delicate  creatures,  who  are  accustomed  to  accompany 


Isabella  Orsini.  209 

the  powerful :  they  come  with  fortune,  and  go  with  it ; 
not  because  they  are  bad  or  ungrateful,  but  because  it  is 
as  innate  in  their  nature  as  hi  the  heliotrope  to  turn  to- 
wards the  direction  of  the  sun ;  they  pertain  to  the 
family  of  leaves,  that  are  born  in  Spring,  and  fall  in 
Autumn.  They  possess  no  will  of  their  own,  incapable 
of  assent  or  denial ;  their  minds,  like  barometers  modi- 
fied by  the  impression  of  air,  bend  according  to  the 
will  of  their  masters.  Such  people  have  always  been, 
and  are  still,  very  dangerous,  for  if  the  great  did  not 
meet  with  people  ever  ready  to  serve  their  wills,  they 
would  not  dare  to  act  as  we  see  them  every  day  ;  much 
the  less  if  they  could  find  souls  like  that  of  the  simple 
Mary,  who  promise  obedience,  and  give  it,  but  do  not 
sell  their  conscience ;  and  when  they  reach  that  point 
in  which  they  must  either  displease  the  worldly  master, 
or  the  Lord  of  Heaven,  they  trust  in  Him  who  decks 
the  lily  of  the  valley,  and  nourishes  even  the  slothful : 
poor  and  alone,  they  will  start  upon  the  desert  of  life, 
exclaiming  like  the  patriarch,  Abraham  :  —  God  will 
provide  1 

But  the  great  rarely  have  friends,  for  if  they  had, 
fortune  would  have  granted  them  too  large  a  share  of 
blessing.  Let  them  take  the  example  of  that  king  of 
Spain,  if  they  desire  to  be  in  company  with  a  friend ; 
— have  their  portrait  painted  together  with  a  dog. 

Lady  Lucrezia,  then,  with  her  submissive  air, 
replied : 

"  Your  Highness,  do  just  what  your  heart  dictates." 

"  Yes,  I  have  decided  to  confess  ;  but  I  would  like  to 
have  some  holy  man,  who  would  know  how  to  comfort 
my  weary  soul,  and  give  rest  to  my  mind,  continually 


21  o  The  Confession. 

assailed  by  doubts;  do  you  know  anyone  able  to  do 
that  ?" 

"  I  do  not." 

"Father  Marcello,  who  is  so  reputed  in  the  city, 
might  be  a  good  counsellor." 

"  Yes,  your  Highness,  I  should  think  he  might  be." 

"  However,  it  would  not  be  proper  to  send  for  him, 
for  perhaps  he  might  not  be  disposed  to  come ;  or 
coming,  it  could  not  be  done  so  secretly,  that  idle 
people  would  not  find  it  out ;  and  I  desire  above  all 
things  secresy  and  discretion." 

"You  speak  wisely,  my  Lady;  for  sometimes  these 
fathers  have  more  pride  under  that  sackcloth  of  theirs 
than  a  Baron  under  a  mantle  of  brocade." 

"And  going  myself  to  church,  I  might  easily  be 
known." 

"  That  is  very  likely." 

"  Perhaps . . .  to-morrow ...  no,  for  it  is  already  too 
late,  and  I  could  not  in  so  short  a  time  collect  myself, 
and  truly  examine  my  soul . . ." 

"  Of  course,  in  such  a  short  time  you  would  not  be 
able  to  remember  all  your  sins . . ." 

"  What  do  you  know  about  my  sins  ?  And  what, 
and  how  many  they  are  ?  Who  told  you  that  it  would 
be  difficult  for  me  to  remember  them  ?" 

Lady  Lucrezia,  with  too  great  a  desire  of  pleasing  her 
mistress,  according  to  the  usual  habit,  assented  where 
she  ought  to  have  doubted. 

The  most  wary  courtier  sometimes  falls  into  this 
error ;  but  if  he  grazes  the  boundary  line,  he  rarely 
stumbles  so  as  to  break  his  legs. 

Lady  Lucrezia  might  have  answered : 


The  Confession.  21 1 

"  Eh !  my  Lady !  If  I  covered  my  face  with  my 
hands,  know  that  I  happened  to  peep  through  the 
fingers,  and  saw  more  than  enough." 

But,  you  may  imagine,  that  even  if  she  had  the 
power  to  conceive  such  thoughts,  she  would  have  put 
them  aside,  as  temptations  of  the  devil ! 

So  she  replied  as  from  inspiration  : 

"  For  a  dignified  and  pure  conscience  like  yours,  so 
scrupulous  of  everything,  making  a  mountain  out  of  a 
mole-hill I  can  well  understand,  that  the  examina- 
tion of  the  conscience  must  be  a  very  serious  thing. . . 

There  are  some,  to  be  sure,  not  so  particular But 

for  your  Ladyship,  it  must  indeed  be  a  serious  aflair. . ." 

Are  the  fish-hooks  as  old  as  the  hills?  I  believe 
ever  since  Adam  fishes  have  been  caught  by  them. 
Thus,  although  flattery  is  of  very  ancient  date,  and 
although  every  man  swears  that  he  knows  and  detests 
it,  yet  by  means  of  flattery,  men,  and  particularly 
women,  were  always,  and  ever  will  be  caught.  Let  him 
who  reads  be  persuaded,  that  it  is  our  nature  to  re- 
member experience  and  its  admonitions,  as  much  as  we 
remember  the  swallow  that  flew  through  the  sky,  or 
the  smoke  that  escaped  from  our  chimneys  ten  years  ago. 

Isabella,  although  she  had  any  other  inclination  than 
smiling  in  her  thoughts,  yet  could  not  help  it  on  hearing 
herself  praised,  and  God  knows  with  what  justice. 

"  The  day  after  to-morrow,  then,  we  shall  rise  early, 
and  covered  with  a  black  mantilla  go  to  the  church  of 
Santa  Croce,  perform  our  devotions,  and  return  unob- 
served home." 

"  Yes,  my  Lady,  it  is  a  good  idea,  and  a  proof  of  your 
good  judgment." 


212  Isabella  Orsini. 

"  Very  well ;  let  it  be  only  between  you  and  me,  for 
no  living  soul  must  know  it. . ." 

"  As  for  that,  your  Highness  knows  my  fidelity  and 
secresy. . ." 

"  Go  to  rest  then,  for  it  is  already  late,  and  to-morrow 
I  may  cause  you  to  be  called  early." 

"  May  God  keep  you  in  His  holy  guard." 
*  *  *  * 

Never  did  pilgrim  touch  more  devoutly  the  holy 
shrine  of  his  pilgrimage,  than  Titta  finally  sat  down  at 
table.  It  had  been  so  well  provided  with  food  and 
drink,  that  his  hunger  was  soon  satisfied  ;  but  as  to  his 
thirst  it  was  a  different  thing ;  for  as  flames  increase 
with  the  addition  of  fuel,  so  his  thirst  increased  by 
drinking.  However,  Titta  was  no  man  to  allow  wine 
to  take  away  from  him  the  use  of  his  brains :  too  large 
a  quantity  would  have  been  necessary  for  that ;  he 
drowned  his  wits  in  wine  like  ducks  in  a  pond,  or 
rather  like  skilful  swimmers,  who,  hardly  touching  the 
bottom,  return  again  to  float  on  the  surface  ;  and  in  this 
half  watchfulness  of  his  thoughts,  he  showed  himself 
more  than  ever  acute  and  malignant.  It  often  happens 
that  the  mind,  when  in  the  full  exercise  of  its  faculties, 
has  no  power  to  imagine  or  define  an  object,  which  on 
the  morrow  (the  senses  not  yet  returned  to  their  usual 
offices)  is  seen  wonderfully  distinct  amidst  the  light 
dreams  that  precede  its  awakening,  as  dawn  precedes 
the  day.  In  the  like  manner  we  see  men  half  drunk, 
conceive  and  act  better  than  if  they  were  entirely  sober. 

The  servants,  seeing  that  he  might  never  stop,  had 
gradually  disappeared,  and  he,  remaining  alone  with 
Giulia  as  he  desired,  thus  soliloquized : 


The  Confession. 


213 


"  Oh,  Giulia !  oh,  wine !  oh,  cards !  oh,  polar  stars 
of  my  life :  what  would  the  world  become  without  you? 
An  extinguished  lantern ;  a  candle  without  a  wick,  a 
lamp  without  oil.  If  some  one  should  say  to  me  : — You 
must  choose  ; — I  would  reply : — I  cannot ; — because 
Giulia  is  nothing  without  wine,  and  wine  is  nothing 
without  cards :  and  they  are  like  Ser  Cecco  and  the 
Court  of  Berni.  Ser  Cecco  cannot  live  without 
the  Court,  nor  can  the  Court  live  without  Ser  Cecco 

They  live  necessarily  together ;  they  all  form  a 

single  substance;  they  exist  united  like  soul  and 
body.  Take  away  the  soul  from  the  body,  and  you 
would  see  the  latter  destroyed  as  Giulia  would  be 

destroyed  without  wine,  and  wine  without  cards 

Oh,  Giulia !...»» 

"  I  don't  understand  such  nonsense ;  and  who  knows 
to  how  many  women  you  have  said  all  this  before ;  for 
indeed  your  words  seem  to  me  like  old  clothes,  that 
through  too  much  use  fall  to  rags. . ." 

"  Oh,  Giulia !  I  swear  to  you  as  I  am  a  gentleman, 
foi  de  gentilhomme,  as  Francis  First  of  France  used  to 
say,  that  what  I  have  said  to  you,  I  have  never  said 
before  to  anyone. . ." 

"  Of  course,  to  no  one.  . ." 

"Believe  me  as  you  believe  in  bread.  I  feel  like 
an  Etna  in  love,  but  I  am  firm  as  the  Alps  in  con- 
stancy. . ." 

"  You  are  adding  insult  to  injury  in  order  to  flatter 
a  poor  woman  like  me,  who  has  already,  I  know  not  for 
how  many  months,  wept  for  you,  and  wished  for  you  in 
vain,  wearying  out  with  my  prayers  and  vows  all  the 
saints  in  heaven.  .  .  ." 


214  Isabella  Orsini. 

"  Oh,  Giulia !»» 

"  And  indeed  in  all  this  time  there  has  been  no  want 
of  flatterers,  who  came  around  me,  and  promised  me 
great  things  ;  but  I  cared  little  for  them ;  though  I  felt 
sorry  for  a  poor  young  man,  who  tried  to  make  me  love 
him,  and  seeing  that  he  could  not  succeed,  drowned 
himself  in  .  .  ." 

"  A  butt  of  wine  !  .  .  ." 

"  What,  would  you  do  me  the  wrong  of  not  believing 
me  ?  .  .  .» 

"  But,  Giulia,  how  can  I  believe  such  things,  when  you 
yourself  do  not  ? — Be  not  angry,  no ;  come  near  me  : 
listen,  when  I  embrace  you  it  seems  as  if  I  was  embrac- 
ing the  human  race. — Be  not  cross,  no,  my  girl ;  listen, 
let  us  talk  reasonably.  I  should  like  to  repose  after  the 
storms  of  life  in  a  port  of  peace  ;  and  you  could  repose 
in  it  with  me,  because,  Blessed  Virgin !  where  can  I 
find  rest  without  you  ?  We  must  never  speak  of  past 
things :  I  celebrating  a  holy  marriage  with  you,  would 
make  of  all  your  past  life  a  great  ablution  in  the  waters 
of  the  river  Lethe. — Years  go  by,  Giulia,  and  we  must 
look  to  the  future.  .  .  ." 

"But  it  seems  to  me  that  between  my  years 
and  yours  there  must  be  a  difference  of  some  dozen 
years." 

"  Put  aside  such  womanish  frivolities,  Giulia,  and  re- 
member that  you  women  are  like  flowers ;  you  grow 
fast,  and  wither  fast,  and  the  best  that  remains  of  you  is 
memory.  I  asked  you  to  talk  seriously.  I  have  already 
served  the  Duke  of  Bracciano  many  years :  I  have  re- 
ceived several  woxmds  for  him ;  once,  in  the  battle  of 
Lepanto,  had  it  not  been  for  me,  a  Turk  would  have 


The  Confession.  215 

cleaved  his  head  like  a  reed,  and  yet  I  am  still  a  soldier. 
And  would  that  it  had  ended  here  ;  but  I  have  always 
seen  carriage  horses  descend  to  a  draw-cart ;  and  some 
day  or  other  we  might  find  ourselves,  before  starting 
for  the  great  voyage,  making  our  last  resting-place  in 
the  hospital  of  St.  Maria  Nuova.  .  .  ." 

"  But  how  can  we  help  this  ?  You  resemble  those 
rats  who  wished  to  hang  a  bell  around  the  cat's  neck 

5» 

"  Woman,  listen  to  me,  for  it  has  been  proved  that 
we  men  possess  a  much  greater  understanding  than 
you.  It  would  be  necessary,  then,  to  lay  aside  a  little 
pile  of  ducats,  and  try  to  get  a  little  shop  whereby  to 
carry  on  a  good  remunerative  trade.  You  would  at- 
tend it,  and  I  could  help  you  in  attending  it,  and  strive 
to  do  other  business  also." 

"  Didn't  I  say  right,  that  you  were  telling  the  story 
of  the  rats  ?  To  do  all  these  things  there  is  need  of  mo- 
ney. .  .  ." 

"  Certainly,  and  with  your  dowry  . .  .'» 

"  I  have  no  dowry  .  .  ." 

"  No  ?     Oh,  Giulia !»» 

"  Oh,  Titta !» 

"Then  the  last  word  has  been  said  between  us. — 
Good-by  .  .  .  You  towards  Jerusalem,  I  towards  Egypt, 
as  Arete  said  to  Argante." 

"  But  what,  can't  we  get  married  without  a  dowry  ?" 

"No,  we  cannot;  the  dowry,  Giulia,  is  as  it  were 
the  wedding-dress ;  without  it  matrimony  would  seem 
naked,  and  you  can  imagine  how  unbecoming  it  would 
be  to  perform  such  a  solemn  rite  ill-dressed.  And  if  we 
turn  our  thoughts  to  ancient  times,  we  know  that  the 


21 6  Isabella  Orsini. 

Muses  remained  spinsters  at  home  because  Apollo  could 
not  afford  any  other  dowry  than  laurel  leaves.  .  .  ." 

"  But  you  would  not  make  me  believe  that  you  have 
saved  no  money ;  what  have  you  done  with  it  ?" 

"  All  gone  in  pious  works,  Giulia,  in  works  of  cha- 
rity; and  my  friends  owe  me  a  fortune.  How  can  I 
help  it  ?  When  I  get  money  I  cannot  refuse  them,  and 
thus  I  find  myself  short  oftener  than  I  would  wish.  .  .  . 
However,  they  will  repay  me  some  time,  but  for  the 
present  we  cannot  count  upon  them.  .  .  ." 

"  Well,  I  cannot  exactly  say  that  I  am  penniless ;  but 
it  is  only  a  trifle.  .  .  ." 

"  Every  sprig  helps  to  make  a  bush ;  with  work  and 
good  will  we  can  raise  the  cupola  of  the  cathedral. 
Now  tell  me  how  much  have  you  saved?  A  thous 
.  .  .  ?" 

"  A  hund  .  .  ." 

"  Oh,  Giulia !» 

"  About  one  hundred  ducats. . ." 

"  Alas !  they  are  not  enough  !" 

Giulia  shrugged  her  shoulders.  Titta,  after  remain- 
ing thoughtful  a  while,  continued : 

"But  one  must  never  despair  of  one's  country,  as 
Themistocles  said :  if  you  will  help  me,  there  is  a  way 
to  seize  fortune  by  the  hair.  Listen  attentively,  wo- 
man . . .  You  must  know  that  the  lord,  my  master,  is  a 
revengeful  man " 

"  All  the  worse  for  him. . ." 

"  A  strange  notion  has  got  into  his  head :  he  thinks 
the  discoveries  of  Columbus,  Americus,  Cabot,  Pigafetta, 
and  all  others,  but  little  compared  to  the  wonderful  one 
he  is  about  to  make.  And  not  only  that :  he  intends 


The  Confession.  217 

that  all  the  world  should  know  it,  and  we  must  help 
him  in  this  discovery. . ." 

"  Oh,  power  of  wine !" 

"  Woman,  listen.  This  discovery  consists  in  knowing 
that  his  wife  is  unfaithful  to  him.  He  has  already 
received  flying  reports  of  it,  but  he  wishes  to  know 
them  certainly,  and  touch  with  his  own  hands,  as  the 
proverb  says;  then  he  will  intrust  this  most  beautiful  affair 
to  the  seven  trumpets  of  fame,  and  I  rather  think  that 
he  will  have  it  published  by  Torrentino  in  octave 
rhymes. . .  Come  nearer,  for  I  wish  to  speak  to  you 
lower. — He,  the  Duke,  has  sent  me  on  purpose  to  see 
how  things  stand,  and  to  report  them  to  him ;  and  if  I 
carry  to  him  a  certain  proof  of  it,  he  has  promised  me 
three  hundred  ducats  of  reward,  besides  his  everlasting 
protection,  and  many  other  favors. . ." 

"  Are  you  in  earnest  ?" 

"Tell  me  who  is  the  Saint  in  whom  you  have  the 
most  faith;  and  I  will  swear  by  him.  So  by  your 
telling  me  all  you  know,  we  shah1  gain  this  money, 
which  together  with  your  three  hundred. . ." 

"  I  said  one  hundred." 

"  One  hundred  then,  with  these  three  hundred,  will 
be  enough  to  accomplish  our  plan  of  marriage." 

Then  the  treacherous  deceitful  woman  began  to  relate 
all  she  knew  (and  she  knew  too  much)  in  regard  to  her 
mistress,  who  had  always  been  kind  to  her  more  than 
to  any  other  servant ;  and  she  added  many  things  of 
her  own  to  make  the  matter  worse  ;  finally  she  reported, 
that  listening,  as  she  was  accustomed  to,  at  her  mis- 
tress's door,  she  had  learned  that  on  the  next  day,  early 
in  the  morning,  she  was  t©  go  to  confess  herself  to 

10 


21 8  Isabella  Orsini. 

Father  Marcello  of  St.  Francesco.  Titta  thought  now 
that  he  knew  a  great  deal  more  than  he  needed.  The 
woman  did  not  stop  chattering ;  like  the  blind  street- 
musician,  who,  as  the  proverb  says : — "  For  a  penny 
begins,  and  for  two  never  ends  playing." — Titta  think- 
ing that  now  it  was  of  no  use  for  him  to  watch  any 
longer,  abandoned  himself  to  the  arms  of  Morpheus, 
and  the  excited  woman  talked  on  before  noticing  that 
her  future  husband  slept  profoundly. 

"  Think  what  it  will  be  after  we  are  married !"  she 
exclaimed;  and  spitefully  giving  him  a  push  on  the 
shoulder,  retired  to  her  own  room  to  sleep. 

*  *  *  * 

The  blast  which  Titta  blew  from  his  horn,  awakened 
another  person  in  the  Orsini  palace,  and  this  was  Troilo. 
He  felt  his  heart  beat  with  anguish :  he  rose  from  his 
bed  into  a  sitting  posture,  and  stood  some  tune  irreso- 
lute, and  listening  attentively  to  see  whether  he  could 
guess  from  the  movement  of  the  people  what  had  hap- 
pened ;  and  as  all  returned  in  a  short  time  to  its 
previous  silence,  he  collected  courage  enough  to 
dress,  and  descend  cautiously  to  the  Duchess's  apart- 
ment. 

"  Come  in,"  said  Isabella  with  a  firm  and  secure 
voice,  when  she  heard  the  knock  at  her  door :  and 
Troilo  entered.  She,  neither  surprised  nor  fearful, 
turned  her  eyes  upon  him,  and  tranquilly  resumed  her 
former  attitude.  Troilo  was  the  first  to  speak : 

"Isabella,  are  you  aware  that  Paolo  Giordano  is 
about  to  return  to  Florence  ?" . . . 

"  I  know  it." 

"  How  do  you  know  it  ?'* 


The  Confession.  219 

"  By  letters  which  he  sent  me,  and  in  which  he  said 
that  he  would  be  at  home  in  a  few  days. . ." 

"  And  did  you  read  nothing  else  in  these  letters  ?" 

"  Nothing  else. . ." 

"  Indeed !  yet  I  know  that  there  was  written  other 
news,  or  at  least  you  should  have  read  it  there." 

"What?" 

"  That  on  the  arrival  of  Paolo  Giordano  you  will  die 
by  his  hand." 

"  Let  God  dispose  of  me  as  it  pleases  Him.  Troilo,  I 
am  prepared  to  die. . ." 

"  What  do  you  say  ?  You  have  an  entire  world 
to  travel  before  you :  full  of  strength,  of  power,  of 
beauty,  how  can  you  consent  to  leave  a  scene  where 
you  sustain  your  part  so  well !  When  the  fruit  is 
green,  it  should  not  be  shaken  from  the  tree  of  life. 
And  perhaps  you  never  had  a  better  time  than  this  to 
enjoy  reasonably  human  gifts,  for  you  are  neither  too 
inexperienced  to  allow  yourself  to  be  carried  away  by 
the  illusions  of  youth,  nor  too  hesitating,  on  account  of 
the  weakness  of  declining  years.  Behold,  the  season  to 
gather  the  fruits  of  experience  is  just  beginning  for 
you. . ." 

"  I  am  old,  very  old  at  heart,  and  love  death  more 
than  I  ever  loved  a  living  being. . ." 

"  But  you  outrage  Divine  Providence,  and  yourself. 
Don't  give  way  to  such  sad  dejection  ;  you  may  repent 
it,  when  perhaps  too  late.  Come,  courage;  cheer  up 
your  spirit,  for  God's  sake  ! . . ." 

Isabella  turned  her  head,  and  fixing  her  eyes  for  some 
time  on  Troilo,  added : 

"Thanks!     Keep  your  courage  to  yourself;  I  have 


22O  Isabella  Orsini. 

enough  of  it.  Troilo,  if  it  was  not  a  firm  deliberation 
of  my  mind  to  remain  here,  do  you  think  that  I  could 
not  devise  some  means  to  go  away  ?  No ;  escaping,  I 
would  show  to  the  world  my  shame;  I  would  make 
manifest  that  which  is  uncertain,  or  what  very  few 
people  know ;  fear  would  say  more  than  guilt,  and 
would  increase  the  necessity  of  revenge.  And  besides, 
in  what  place  can  I  hide  myself  where  the  poniard,  the 
snare,  or  the  poison  of  the  assassin  could  not  reach  me  ? 
And  when  even  I  could  find  a  place  capable  of  pro- 
tecting me,  who  could  protect  me  against  the  disdainful 
manner  with  which  men  give  help,  like  crusts  of  bread 
thrown  to  a  beggar  ?  Who  could  protect  me  against 
the  bitter  and  incessant  reproaches  which  would  be 
hurled  against  me,  not  because  guilty,  but  because  I 
made  public  this  guilt  ?  Who  could  protect  me  against 
that  pity  which  gnaws  one's  bones,  and  that  compassion 
which  poisons  the  blood?  Who  could  protect  me 
against  the  proud  contempt,  the  bitter  smiles,  the 
respectful  sneers  ?  Oh,  the  thought  alone  chills  my 
very  soul !  No,  it  is  better  to  die  with  one  blow  than 
be  thus  cruelly  murdered  under  this  martyrdom  re- 
newed from  day  to  day,  or  rather  from  hour  to  hour, 
from  minute  to  minute.  Prometheus  certainly  did  not 
choose  life  on  condition  that  his  bowels  should  be 
devoured  by  the  insatiable  vulture." 

"  Your  despair,  Isabella,  comes  from  not  having  been 
able  to  imagine  any  other  remedy  but  flight :  there  are 
other  means  of  escape. . ." 

"  I  see  none  .  .  ." 

"  And  surer  ones  .  .  ." 

"  If  such  ones  that  could  surely  save  my  honor  !  .  .  ." 


The  Confession.  221 

"  Be  assured  that  there  can  be  none  more  safe  . .  . 
Paolo  Giordano  desires  our  death  ;  this  is  most  certain. 
Now,  as  we  cannot  remain  in  this  world  together — 
since  one  of  us  must  choose  a  different  abode,  let  him, 
go  who  wishes  to  expel  us ;  not  ourselves,  who  would  have 
willingly  tolerated  him  in  this  world.  .  .  ." 

"  And  thus  you  would  add  homicide  to  shame.  And 
to  amend  one  crime  commit  another,  which  is  more 
offensive  to  men  and  God  ?" 

"  The  one  is  the  offspring  of  the  other ;  and  necessity 
excuses  us ;  for  what  precept  or  what  law  imposes  on 
us  the  duty  of  respecting  a  life  which  has  changed  into 
a  poniard  to  take  our  own  ?  Let  us  heed  the  dictates 
of  nature,  a  most  merciful  mother,  who  never  fails ; 
and  she  will  say  to  you  that  between  killing  and  being 
killed,  it  is  best  to  kill ..  ." 

"  You  strike  me  with  horror." 

"  And  why  ?» 

"Because,  if  I  question  my  heart,  a  voice  cries  to 
me : — What  precept  or  what  law  ever  allows  us  to  pu- 
nish him  who  did  not  commit  the  crime  ?  What  justice 
ever  taught  us  to  make  a  victim,  because  we  committed 
a  crime  ?  No,  laws  are  never  perverted  thus,  neither 
in  this  world  nor  the  next  .  .  ." 

"  Of  the  next  world  we  will  think  by-and-by ;  for  the 
present  let  us  think  of  this.  Isabella,  you  must  have 
learned  from  your  father  the  secret  of  concocting  some 
beverage  sweet  to  the  taste,  which  puts  one  quietly 
asleep  .  .  .  never  to  wake  again  .  .  ." 

"Ah,  wretched  man!  Would  you  renew  the  hor- 
rors of  the  family  of  Atreus  ?  .  .  ." 

"  No,  I  do  not  intend  to  begin  anything  new,  I  only 


222  Isabella  Orsini. 

wish  you  to  continue  in  the  practice  of  domestic  exam- 
ples. .  .  ." 

Isabella  bent  her  head;  then  raising  and  tossing  it 
with  a  scornful  look,  replied  resolutely  : 

"  No,  this  crime  shall  not  contaminate  the  pages  of 
history ;  our  family  shall  not  have  its  Clytemnestra, 
and  if  you  design  such  a  wretched  attempt  against  the 
life  of  your  cousin,  beware !  I  \vill  defend  him  with  all 
my  powers,  even  with  my  own  life.  .  .  ." 

"  Isabella,  you  cannot  separate  your  fate  from  mine : 
love  bound  us  willingly  together  for  a  short  time ;  crime 
binds  us  unwillingly  with  an  indissohible  tie  .  .  ." 

"  These  are  the  ties  of  cowards ;  I  am  not  afraid,  and 
I  break  them  .  .  ." 

"  I  know  well  enough  that  you  are  not  afraid,  but  I 
know  too  well  also  in  what  you  trust  .  .  .  You  have 
hopes  in  pardon  ;  you  put  faith  in  your  cunning  words, 
in  your  art  of  dissimulating,  in  the  pleasures  of  your 
caresses  .  .  .  Yes,  wretched  woman,  you  trust  to  your 
arts,  and  if,  hi  order  to  secure  your  peace  and  safety,  a 
sacrifice  and  a  victim  is  wanted,  behold,  my  head  is  des- 
tined for  the  expiation  of  all.  .  .  ." 

"  Then  fly,  save  yourself  elsewhere.  Have  you  need 
of  means?  I  can  give  you  all  you  desire — take  all 
which  I  have  in  money  and  jewels — for  the  journey 
which  I  am  about  to  take,  money  is  of  no  use." 

"  If  you  fear  assassins,  you,  a  cousin  of  Catherine  of 
France,  how  can  I  save  myself  from  them — I,  without 
any  protection  ?  If  you  are  saddened  by  the  thought 
of  receiving  insufficient,  feeble,  and  even  bitter  help, 
how  can  I  hope  to  have  it  abundant,  efficacious,  or 
agreeable  ?  It  is  in  vain  for  you  to  pretend  generosity 


The  Confession.  223 

when  it  is  of  no  avail,  and  advise  plans  which  are  not 
safe.  I  see  no  other  way  here  but  poison  .  .  ." 

"  And  I  swear  to  you,  upon  my  word,  that  Giordano 
shall  live.  .  .  ." 

"  No,  you  must  poison  him. .  .  ." 

"  If  you  did  not  excite  my  compassion,  you  would 
certainly  excite  my  scorn  .  .  ." 

"  Indeed  ?  Then  listen.  We  have  a  son.  I  already 
foresaw  your  treacherous  obstinacy.  You  had  better 
remove  this  shadow  of  repentance,  shameless  woman ! 
and  know  that  you  will  not  wash  out  your  stains  with 
my  blood ! — We  have  a  child :  I  have  already  sent  for 
him,  and  if  you  do  not  consent  to  save  me — and  save 
yourself  also,  I  will  throw  it  murdered  into  your  arms 
before  morning. — When  Giordano  is  dead  we  can  marry, 
not  because  we  can  ever  love  each  other ;  for,  if  you 
hate  me,  it  is  well  that  you  should  know  also  that  I 
hate  you  no  less ;  but  to  appease  the  impudent  pride  of 
your  haughty  brothers,  who  dare  to  think  there  is  no 
nobility  in  the  world  equal  to  their  own,  who  were  mer- 
chants yesterday,  and  now  threaten  our  lives.  .  .  .  You 
may  willingly  reside  far  from  me,  as  I,  with  all  my  heart, 
swear  that  I  will  go  thousands  of  miles  from  you  .  .  ." 

While  Troilo  with  fierce  passion  was  proffering  these 
words,  Isabella  showed  from  time  to  time  signs  of  im- 
patience, rage,  and  intense  desire  to  retort  against  the 
villanous  knight ;  but  with  great  effort  she  repressed 
her  words,  and  when  he  finished,  feigning  in  her  aspect 
and  voice  a  calmness  which  she  was  certainly  far  from 
feeling,  replied : 

"  You  are  an  excellent  and  affectionate  father  indeed, 
who  calls  to  mind  his  children  only  to  murder  them ! 


224  Isabella  Orsini. 

Troilo,  the  heart  of  a  woman  may  err,  and  be  deceived 
when  she  is  in  love,  but  it  is  not  deceived,  nor  does  it 
err  when  she  becomes  a  mother.  You  rely  in  vain  on 
your  cruel  designs :  your  child  is  now  where  he  has  no 
fear  of  your  paternal  caresses  .  .  ." 

"  Even  my  child  you  have  taken  from  me  ?" 

"And  dare  you  to  complain  that  I  have  saved  him 
from  your  parricidal  hands  ?" 

"  Restore  me  my  child  ! — Restore  me  my  child  !  Or 
I  will  tear  your  heart  out .  .  ." 

"  Strike !  .  .  ."  And  Isabella,  pale  as  death,  but  yet 
calm,  opened  her  arms,  and  offered  her  breast  to  him. 
Troilo  stood  thoughtful  awhile,  and  then  murmured : 

"  What  is  her  death  to  me  ?     I  wish  to  live.  .  .  ." 

And  he  replaced  his  dagger.  Then  suddenly,  as  a  sail 
blown  by  a  strong  wind  falls  at  its  cessation  flapping 
against  the  mast,  so  his  coward  heart,  entirely  deprived 
of  constancy,  was  cowed  down ;  a  sudden  and  great 
change  worked  within  him,  and  from  bold  he  became 
humble.  Then  with  downcast  eyes  and  low  voice,  turn- 
ing to  Isabella  a  face  which  he  endeavored  to  render 
suppliant,  but  was  abject,  resumed  : 

"  Ah !  Isabella ;  forget,  I  beg  you,  all  that  passion 
poured  from  my  lips :  when  the  blood  rises  to  the  head, 
man  knows  not  what  he  says  or  does ;  if  you  only  will 
it  so  (the  heaven  having  granted  you  such  great  gifts 
of  persuasion,  beauty,  and  grace)  Paolo  Giordano  will 
not  imbrue  his  hands  in  your  blood.  Ah !  in  obtain- 
ing your  pardon,  obtain  mine  also  ;  or  if,  wary  as  you 
are,  you  see  that  it  would  be  of  use  to  deny,  deny ;  do 
not  doubt  of  my  discretion,  for  it  is  a  great  stake ;  at  a 
suitable  time,  with  your  help,  I  will  take  leave  of  this 


The  Confession.  225 

fatal  house,  and  return  to  the  army,  where  by  this  time 
I  might  have  acquired  a  distinguished  name  and  rank. 
Promise  me,  Isabella.  Can  I  rely  on  you  ?  Speak, 
oh,  speak !  Do  not  leave  me  thus  upon  thorns :  my 
soul  is  overcome  with  inexpressible  grief;  remember 
that  I  am  the  father  of  your  child.  .  .  ." 

"  It  would  have  been  better  not  to  remind  me  of  it, 
Orsini ;  indeed  it  would  have  been  better.  Neverthe- 
less, in  the  same  manner  in  which  I  would  have  de- 
fended Paolo  Giordano,  I  shall  defend  you.  Certainly 
I  will  not  tell  falsehoods,  but  if  the  guilt  can  be  excused, 
I  will  certainly  do  it  for  all  our  sakes  ;  and  if  God  gives 
me  life,  I  will  endeavor  to  obtain,  if  not  pardon,  mercy. 
There  can  never  be  happiness  for  me  again  in  this 
world ;  yet  I  shall  deem  myself  less  unhappy,  knowing 
you  prosperous.  Now  go,  Troilo ;  I  have  need  of 
peace.  .  .  ." 

And  Troilo,  bowing  his  head,  with  his  arms  folded 
upon  his  breast,  departed. 

Isabella  followed  him  with  her  eyes,  and  held  them 
fixed  a  long  time  at  the  door  from  whence  he  had  gone 
out :  suddenly,  striking  the  palm  of  her  hand  upon  her 
forehead,  she  exclaimed : 

"  Alas  !  alas  !  for  what  a  man  have  I  lost  the  honor 
of  a  woman,  the  dignity  of  a  princess,  and  my  own 
salvation  !  .  .  ." 

******** 

It  was  a  clear  and  serene  night  in  July ;  the  stars 
revolved  in  their  celestial  spheres,  pouring  a  dew  of 
light  upon  this  earth,  which  does  not  deserve  such 
smiles  of  love.  The  times,  places,  things,  and  men, 
which  you  saw  then,  ye  pure  rays  of  light,  have  returned 
10* 


226  Isabella  Orsini. 

dying  from  whence  they  had  sprung  before  their  birth : 
many  and  many  more  men  and  centuries  shall  you  see  ; 
but  will  that  light  which  emanated  from  you  last  for 
ever,  or,  like  all  other  fires,  will  it  be  extinguished  ?  It 
is  written,  that  one  day  God  will  shatter  into  atoms, 
never  again  to  meet,  this  mass  of  bloody  clay  which  we 
call  earth  ;  and  it  will  be  well,  for  we  almost  wish  that 
it  had  already  happened:  but  it  is  also  written,  that 
your  loving  eyes  shall  be  extinguished,  and  God  will 
close  your  eyelids  like  maidens  dead  in  the  midst  of  the 
joys  of  life.  The  voice  of  the  Eternal,  like  unto  the 
roaring  of  a  thousand  oceans  in  the  storm,  will  return  to 
peal  throughout  the  endless  solitude  of  darkness  and 
abyss.  Of  so  immense  a  variety  of  created  things  there 
will  not  remain  an  echo,  nor  a  memory,  nor  even  a 
shadow ; — as  the  eye  seeks,  and  finds  not  the  drop  fallen 
into  the  sea ;  as  the  eye  seeks,  and  finds  not  the  star 
which  falls  from  the  firmament  in  summer  nights ;  so 
time  will  be  hurled  into  the  depth  of  eternity ; — this 
terrible  mother  will  smother  her  child  pressed  in  her 
arms,  and  will  bury  him  in  her  bosom.  Oh,  Lord ! 
How  can  man,  thinking  on  the  death  of  the  stars,  foster 
evil  designs  in  his  heart?  Thousands  of  ages  will  j>nss 
away  before  the  stars  will  cease  to  proclaim  in  the 
heavens  the  glories  of  God  ; — and  thousands  of  ages 
before  this  shall  happen,  this  body  of  mine, .  separated 
into  innumerable  particles,  will  be  laid  waste  through  the 
kingdoms  of  nature.  Nevertheless,  thinking  that  one 
day  you  must  perish  also,  beautiful  lights  of  love,  my 
spirit  is  disheartened,  and  it  seems  an  almost  impossible 
thing  to  conceive,  how  men,  creatures  of  a  moment, 
meeting  upon  this  earth  which  passes  away  with  them, 


The  Confession.  227 

instead  of  raising  their  hands  in  enmity  against  each 
other,  should  not  exchange  friendly  greetings,  and  dis- 
appear into  eternity ;  — a  light  shadow  fleeting  away, 
but  at  least  a  happy  one. 

On  such  a  night,  a  man  creeping  like  a  snake,  his 
body  shrinking,  grazing  the  walls,  hiding  himself  in  the 
thickest  darkness,  and  raising  his  head  sometimes  to  im- 
precate the  distant  ray  with  which  the  stars  smiled  upon 
this  miserable  earth,  hastened  towards  a  certain  place. 
This  place  was  the  convent  of  Santa  Croce.  Arriving 
at  the  gate  of  the  cloister,  he  pulled  the  bell-rope  softly, 
restraining  the  ardent  desire  he  felt  to  give  it  so  strong 
a  pull  as  to  awaken  the  whole  convent:  he  stood 
listening  through  the  cracks  of  the  door,  and  as  he 
heard  no  one  moving,  he  rang  again :  and  he  repeated 
it  thus  four  or  six  times,  and  was  beginning  to  lose  all 
patience,  when  he  thought  he  heard  footsteps  approach- 
ing ;  he  then,  assuming  a  devotional  attitude,  stood 
waiting  composedly.  A  bold  hand  opened  the  door 
deliberately :  and,  considering  the  times,  it  was  not  a 
little  boldness,  for  they  lived  in  such  suspicion  then, 
that  to  open  at  such  a  late  hour  would  have  required 
many  signs  and  explanations,  as  is  the  custom  in  a 
besieged  fortress ;  at  the  same  time  a  bold  yet  pleasing 
voice  said : 

"Deo  gratias:  what  do  you  desire  in  the  holy  name 
of  God..." 

"  Reverend  Father,"  replied  the  unknown,  "  God  at 
this  moment  is  calling  to  Himself  a  great  sinner.  As 
all  knots  come  to  the  comb,  thus  in  this  hour  return  to 
his  mind  all  his  crimes  committed,  and  he  despairs  of 
the  Divine  mercy,  curses  the  day  and  hour  in  which  he 


228  Isabella  Orsini. 

was  born,  and  is  running  the  imminent  danger  of  dying 
unrepentant. . ." 

"  Unhappy  he,  because  he  has  sinned ;  more  unhappy 
still,  because  he  despairs  of  the  Lord's  mercy ! . . ." 

"  Indeed  I  tried  to  persuade  him  that  it  was  so ;  but 
as  I  am  ignorant  of  divinity,  I  saw  that  my  words  had 
but  little  eflect :  nevertheless,  I  did  not  cease  praying 
with  him,  and  strove  to  console  him  by  saying — that 
at  last  all  would  be  settled  rightly,  and  that  God,  who 
is  old,  has  seen  so  many  and  many  crimes,  that  now  He 
cannot  be  so  very  particular  about  them,  and  that  a  good 
repentance,  but  of  the  real  kind,  would  wash  out  mere 
sins  than  perhaps  his  own. . ." 

"  Certainly,  the  power  of  repentance  is  very  great, 
and  God  as  a  good  shepherd  labors  principally  after  the 
lost  sheep." 

"But  the  dying  man  said: — Who  would  dare  to 
present  my  soul  to  God,  without  fearing  that  He  would 
cover  His  eyes  with  His  hands  ?  Who  will  utter  for  me 
one  prayer,  without  fearing  the  gates  of  heaven  will  be 
closed  in  his  face  ?  Only  one  . . .  only  one  just  man  I 
know  in  the  world,  who  could  inspire  me  with  a  hope 
of  faith  . . .  but  it  is  too  late  ...  he  would  not  come  . . . 
at  this  hour  he  is  refreshing  with  a  short  rest  his  limbs 
worn  out  in  the  service  of  God  . . .  Alas,  it  is  too  late ! 
— And  uttering  piteous  cries,  he  tossed  raving  upon  the 
bed.  Finally,  I  succeeded  with  pain  to  extract  from 
his  mouth  the  name  of  this  venerable  man,  who  it  cannot 
be  denied  is  a  most  holy  and  learned  one,  for  he  is  the 
Reverend  Father  Marcello,  whom  may  God  always  keep 
prosperous  and  happy. — And  although  it  was  a  late 
hour,  yet  I  thought  best  for  me  to  come  for  him,  hoping 


The  Confession.  229 

the  grace  may  be  granted  me  of  contributing  towards 
the  salvation  of  a  sinful  Christian. . ." 

As  the  monk  stood  thoughtful,  and  did  not  reply,  the 
man  continued,  making  studied  pauses  between  one 
word  and  another : 

"  Besides,  as  the  dying  man  is  immensely  rich,  and  a 
great  merchant,  nor  having,  that  I  know,  any  children, 
or  relatives,  except  very  distant  ones,  I  thought  he 
might  leave  large  sums  of  money  to  be  expended  in 
pious  works,  alms,  funerals,  and  so  forth  . . ." 

The  friar,  however,  had  not  paid  any  attention  to  the 
final  argument  of  this  man :  but  suddenly,  as  if  recol- 
lecting himself,  said : 

"  We  can  die  but  once  after  all ;  and  the  best  death 
is  certainly  that  which  we  meet  in  the  service  of  God. 
This  life  of  suspicion  seems  a  continual  death.  Good 
man,  you  in  the  simplicity  of  your  heart  gave  advice 
like  the  most  learned  of  the  Fathers  of  the  Church. 
God  gave  equal  remuneration  to  the  workmen  who  came 
early,  as  to  the  others  who  came  towards  evening  to  his 
vineyard.  Charity  does  not  look  at  the  watch  ;  and  the 
brightest  hour  for  her  is  that  in  which  she  is  able  to 
bring  move  aid  to  the  poor  afflicted  people.  Charity 
done  in  the  dark  of  night  is  that  which  is  more  clear  to 
the  eye  of  God.  The  house  of  the  Lord  is  never  empty : 
knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened  to  you :  the  fountain  of 
heavenly  mercy  never  fails :  ask,  and  it  shall  be  given 
you  to  drink ; — the  blood  of  our  Redeemer  pours  an 
everlasting  ablution  for  repentant  and  humble  souls. — 
Indeed,  the  times  are  full  of  danger,  and  invisible  hands 
strike  at  the  ministers  of  the  gospel.  Religion  is  now 
groaning  over  the  blood  of  the  martyrs,  which  is 


230  Isabella  Orsini. 

drenching  the  earth  without  bearing  fruits.  And  there 
are  those  who  wish  Religion  as  a  servant,  or  rather 
accomplice,  and  presume  to  put  on  her  their  livery  ;  to 
substitute  on  the  stole  their  coat-of-arms  instead  of  the 
Cross,  and  enrol  her  as  a  man-at-arms.  May  God  avert 
such  infamy  !  Religion  has  the  mission  of  interposing 
between  the  oppressed  and  the  oppressor,  to  save  the 
former  beneath  the  folds  of  her  sacred  mantle,  to  look 
on  the  face  of  the  latter,  to  hurl  the  anathema  against 
him,  and  drag  him  by  the  hair  before  a  tribunal  where 
he  is  but  dust. . .  But  this  city  has  stoned  its  prophets ; 
— the  angels  wept  when  they  saw  Friar  Girolamo 
Savonarola  burned  by  the  people,  and  a  lamentation 
was  heard  through  the  heaven,  saying :  Oh,  Lord,  oh, 
Lord !  Has  the  end  of  the  world  come  ? — Like  the 
services  of  the  Holy  Week  at  the  end  of  each  psalm 
they  extinguish  a  light ;  and  when  they  are  all  out,  there 
is  darkness,  and  how  horrible  ! — You  might  deceive  me : 
Judas  betrayed  Christ,  kissing  him  ;  but  I  had  rather  be 
betrayed  once,  than  suspect  all  my  life . . .  Go  on,  good 
man  ;  I  will  follow  you. . ." 

"  What,  is  it  you  ?  . . .»» 

"  I  am  Father  Marcello.  The  others  sleep,  but  to  me 
the  Lord  said : — Watch,  for  your  life  will  be  short,  and 
you  will  soon  sleep  your  last  sleep  in  the  grave.  Prayer 
is  my  bride,  preaching  my  sister,  tears  my  pleasure. . ." 

And  shutting  the  door  behind  him,  he  followed  the 
steps  of  the  unknown  man. 

The  unknown,  who  (since  I  do  not  wish  to  keep  my 
readers  in  suspense)  was  Titta,  walked  with  his  eyes  on 
the  ground,  and  took  tottering  steps  like  one  strongly 
excited  by  some  passion ;  and  it  was  so.  He,  who  had 


The  Confession.  231 

spent  so  many  years  of  his  life  in  doing  evil,  now,  in  a 
short  space  of  a  few  hours,  saw  fortune  place  before  him 
two  generous  souls,  that  of  Cecchino,  and  Father  Mar- 
cello's  ;  so  that  when  he  least  expected  it,  a  doubt  arose 
in  his  mind,  which  perhaps  had  continually  escaped  him 
all  his  lifetime :  and  without  understanding  it,  their 
dignity  seemed  to  him  a  wonderful  fact.  Besides,  that 
ready  and  spontaneous  trusting  in  him,  so  little  worthy 
of  trust ;  the  honest  boldness  which  springs  from  feeling 
ourselves  innocent ;  the  forgetfulness  or  contempt  of 
any  danger  when  there  was  a  case  of  doing  a  work  of 
charity,  agitated  him  with  such  new  and  deep  senti- 
ments, that  he  could  not  account  for  them.  What, 
without  seeming  at  all  impossible,  will  appear  wonderful 
to  the  subtle  scrutinizes  of  human  nature,  was,  that 
while  he  proceeded  with  the  full  deliberation  of  accom- 
plishing his  planned  snare  against  the  poor  friar,  he 
begged  his  guardian  angel  that  he  might  prevent  him, 
and  sought  in  the  bottom  of  his  heart  the  trace  of  some 
virtue,  which  would  serve  him  as  an  anchor,  in  which 
he  might  trust  in  order  to  save  himself  from  ship- 
wreck. 

Father  Marcello,  although  ignorant  of  the  streets  of 
Florence,  yet  perceived  that  he  had  made  him  cross  the 
same  street  twice ;  he  therefore  touched  his  conductor 
lightly  upon  the  shoulders,  saying : 

"  Brother,  mind  the  road." 

"  Ah !  You  are  right ;  I  had  got  so  absorbed  in  my 
own  thoughts,  that  if  you  had  not  roused  me,  I  know 
not  when  I  should  have  come  to  my  senses  again  ;  and 
in  order  that  it  may  not  happen  again,  be  kind  enough 
to  reply  to  some  doubts  which  I  have  in  my  mind. 


232  Isabella  Orsini. 

N"ow,  Father,  tell  me,  where  do  you  think  we  shall  be 
carried  with  all  these  contentions  about  Religion  ?" 

"It  would  be  too  long  a  subject  to  discuss;  but  I 
have  faith  that  it  will  lead  to  good.  For  my  part  I 
believe  Luther  is  a  Cerberus,  who  barks  because  they  do 
not  throw  him  the  bone :  but  he  bit  the  leaves,  not  the 
root ;  he  tore  the  fringe,  but  not  the  cloth.  He  is  as 
tiresome  as  a  criticism,  and  lasts  only  because  the  fault 
lasts :  if  the  Church  only  purify  herself  in  the  mystic 
waters,  Luther  and  all  the  renovators  would  at  once 
fail.  Already  they  do  not  agree  among  themselves  in 
building  the  new  Babel ;  the  ancient  miracle  of  the  con- 
fusion of  tongues  is  again  commencing,  they  all  run 
through  paths  where  there  is  no  exit.  These  troubles 
will  pass,  but  before'they  pass,  I  fear  a  great  many  other 
new  ones  will  be  added :  when  the  human  intellect  has 
rebelled  against  authority,  it  must  wear  itself  out  in  the 
path  of  proud  reasonings.  Imagining  that  superstitions 
and  errors  are  the  necessary  evils  of  religion,  they  will 
all  join  together  to  destroy  them  ;  and  I  foresee  these  to 
be  days  full  of  sorrow :  I  foresee  again  renewed  the 
vinegar  and  gall,  the  thorns,  the  blows,  the  nails,  and 
the  spear-wound  of  Christ ;  I  see  doubt  as  a  wind  coming 
from  the  desert  withering  the  harvest  of  Faith,  Charity, 
and  Hope.  But  since  man  cannot  reach  the  celestial 
seats  with  the  simple  light  of  reason,  he  will  stand 
appalled  in  contemplating  hi  the  heaven  an  abyss  like 
hell,  and  shall  feel  again  the  need  of  a  God,  who  may 
have  had  grief,  love,  and  feelings  of  humanity,  and  will 
seek  Christ  again,  who,  as  it  is  said  He  did  with  St. 
Francis,  will  unloose  his  arms  from  the  cross  to  embrace 
him.  Thus,  religion  becoming  again  the  bridesmaid  of 


The  Confession.  233 

human  souls,  after  having  espoused  them  in  this  world 
with  the  ties  of  love,  will  direct  them  towards  the 
eternal  home  to  which  we  all  aspire,  which  is  in 
heaven." 

"These  seem  to  me  things  that  may  happen  some 
tune  or  other  at  the  last  judgment.  Let  us  leave  hea- 
ven, for,  as  you  say,  it  would  be  a  long  discourse  ;  but 
of  this  earth,  of  this  which  we  call  our  country,  this 
Florence,  this  Italy,  what  do  you  think  ?" 

"  My  son,  she  is  dead ;  no,  not  dead  .  .  .  the  sleep 
which  oppresses  her  has  the  appearance  of  death  .  .  . 
but  this  sleep  is  so  heavy  that  it  seems  to  me  that  with- 
out a  miracle  of  God  she  can  never  awake  again. 
Know,  know,  my  son,  that  oppressors  cannot  tyrannize, 
if  the  oppressed  do  not  consent  to  be  tyrannized  over ; 
nor  does  the  difficulty  consist  in  taking  away  the  tyrant, 
but  in  the  virtue  of  the  citizens  in  maintaining  them- 
selves in  freedom  and  honest  fellowship.  This  city,  at 
the  time  of  the  death  of  Alexander,  showed  how  a  peo- 
ple can  remain  slaves,  although  the  tyrant  be  dead ; 
and  this  is  what  regards  national  independence :  as  to 
foreign  independence,  God  is  strong,  and  takes  part 
Avith  the  strong.  These  foolish  people  think  to  get  rid 
of  Spain  by  means  of  France,  of  France  by  means  of 
Spain,  and  they  stretch  their  hands  humbly  now  to  the 
latter,  now  to  the  former,  those  hands  which  should 
have  been  armed  to  threaten  and  to  strike  both  of 
them. —  Out  icith  the  barbarians  !  cried  the  glorious 
Pontiff  Julius  II. ;  and  the  barbarians  were  all  those 
who  were  not  born  in  Italy.  Oh,  foolish  people !  who 
believe  that  the  chivalry  of  Spam  or  France  are  going 
to  leave  their  splendid  castles,  their  wives  and  children, 


234  Isabella  Orsini. 

encounter  the  perils  of  the  sea,  climb  over  the  precipi- 
tous summits  of  the  mountains,  and  come  in  your  coun- 
try merely  to  fight  a  tournament,  and  give  the  reward 
of  it  to  you  lazy  men,  who  stand  looking  on.  Oh, 
fools!  the  people  who  know  not  how  to  defend  the 
home  which  nature  has  given  them,  are  not  worthy  of 
possessing  it :  the  world  belongs  to  those  who  take  it ; 
thus  has  the  law  of  destiny  decreed.  Louis  XI.  made 
France  a  united  and  strong  kingdom ;  Charles  V.  had 
the  same  idea  with  regard  to  Germany  and  Spain.  The 
over-rated  Lorenzo  dei  Medici,  what  did  he  accomplish  ? 
"With  jugglers'  tricks  he  kept  in  discordant  equilibrium 
the  remnant  of  a  people.  It  was  not  a  monument,  but 
a  pasteboard  statue  ;  and  the  first  wind  that  blew  from 
the  Alps  overturned  it :  Charles  VIII.  rode  over  Italy 
with  wooden  spurs.  Now  we  are  broken  into  frag- 
ments. The  Italian  people  stood  watching  the  death 
of  the  Florentine  Republic  like  a  fighting  gladiator :  at 
her  glorious  death  all  applauded,  no  one  helped  her ; 
and  falling,  the  Republic  wrote  with  its  blood  upon  the 
arena  a  cruel  sentence,  and  which  shall  come  to  pass : 
You  also  will  fall,  but  infamously.  Venice  believes  her- 
self seated  upon  a  throne,  but  she  is  sitting  instead 
upon  the  grave  which  shall  cover  her.  Genoa,  like  the 
swallow  having  made  its  nest  in  a  lofty  place,  imagines 
itself  secure,  and  does  not  think  of  the  hunter's  arrow, 
that  reaches  even  to  the  clouds  ...  I  breathe  an  air  of 
tombs,  I  trample  an  earth  of  churchyard.  .  .  ." 

"  Then,  Father,  if  it  is  so,  allow  me  to  quote  a  pas- 
sage, written  some  hundred  and  more  years  ago  by  a 
worthy  priest  and  canon  of  the  Church,  who  had  more 
brains  than  a  thousand  such  as  I,  which  said  : 


The  Confession.  235 

0  fools  and  blind,  to  labor  night  and  day, 
In  fruitless  toil,  when  soon  around  our  clay 
Our  mother's  cold  embraces  shall  be  thrown, 
Our  deeds  forgotten,  and  our  names  unknown  !* 

"  Mark,  however :  first,  heaven  has  not  granted  me 
the  gift  of  prophecy,  and  as  I  may  perchance  be  mis- 
taken, thus  it  behooves  us  to  do  what  is  right  without 
giving  ourselves  the  thought  of  what  may  happen ; 
secondly,  that  I  once  heard  from  my  teacher,  that  a 
God  and  a  people,  although  dead,  cannot  long  remain 
within  the  sepulchre ;  and  in  truth,  our  Saviour  only 
remained  in  it  three  days.  The  days  of  the  people  are 
indeed  centuries ;  but  men  pass  away  like  shadow*,  hu- 
manity remains.  Every  good  seed  brings  forth  good 
fruit  before  God,  and  at  its  proper  tune  will  sprout  to 
enliven  the  earth ;  if  we  shall  not  eat  of  it,  let  us  save 
it,  for  our  children  shall.  Thirdly,  I  told  you  that  I 
deemed  her  not  dead,  but  oppressed  by  mortal  lethargy. 
It  would  avail  me  nothing,  and  in  truth  I  hate  to  spend 
the  life  which  God  has  granted  me  in  sculpturing  a 
splendid  marble  tomb,  to  place  within  it  the  corpse  of 
Italy,  and  then  deck  myself  in  majestic  funeral  clothes, 
light  candles  upon  golden  candlesticks,  fill  the  censers 
with  perfumes,  and  chant  with  divine  notes  the  prayers 
for  the  dead.  This  I  hate,  although  I  see  it  done,  with 
infinite  bitterness  to  my  soul,  by  men  of  noble  talents 
but  feeble  hearts.  .  .  .  Have  you  ever  heard  about  Queen 
Joanna,  the  mother  of  Charles  V.  ?  When  her  husband 

*  0  ciechi :  il  tanto  affaticar  che  giova  ? 
Tutti  torniamo  alia  gran  madre  antica, 
E  il  nome  vostro  appena  si  ritrova, — PETEAKCA. 


236  Isabella  Orsini. 

Philip,  whom  she  loved  so  much,  died,  she  would  not 
allow  him  to  be  buried,  but  had  him  embalmed,  and 
placed  him  upon  a  rich  bed  of  black  velvet,  and  as  long 
as  she  lived  she  sat  at  his  side,  watching  from  time  to 
tune  if  he  would  not  awake  :  this  was  charity  and  insa- 
nity. I  imitate  this  charitable  example  wisely,  since  I 
do  not  consider  our  country  dead,  but  as  if  asleep  by 
enchantment ;  and  I  watch  her  day  and  night,  uttering 
over  her  the  words  of  love,  but  oftener  still  of  grief  and 
anger ;  at  times  with  reviving  salts,  or  other  stimulants, 
I  endeavor  to  recall  her  to  life  ;  at  other  times  I  thrust 
my  hands  in  her  hair,  or  put  to  her  lips  a  living  coal  as 
God  gave  to  Isaiah,  or  I  pierce  her  flesh  near  the  heart 
to  see  if  from  thence  gushes  out  living  blood.  Indeed 
.  .  .  indeed,  so  far  my  words  have  been  in  vain,  and  en- 
tire locks  of  her  hair  have  remained  in  my  hands  .  .  . 
But  if  when  about  to  awaken,  these  words  of  anger, 
grief,  and  love,  these  deeds  of  charity  or  disdain  should 
be  able  to  break  this  lethargy  from  her  head  for  one 
moment,  or  even  a  second  before  the  time  fixed  by  fate, 
would  not  my  life,  the  lives  of  a  hundred  citizens  be 
well  spent  ?" 

"  This  friar's  brains,"  thought  Titta  to  himself,  "  seem 
to  me  like  a  windmill ;  but  even  such  mills,  when  the 
weather  is  propitious,  grind  gram,  and  well  too.  To  get 
rid  of  all  this  talk,  there  is  no  other  way  but  to  pull  the 
hood  over  his  mouth ; — and  yet  he  seems  to  me  a  great 
and  noble  soul ;  Aretino  was  not  worthy  of  tying  his 
shoes.  However,  there  is  no  longer  time  to  change  my 
mind,  and  I  must  leave  the  moth-eaten  beam  for  fear  the 
house  should  fall . . .  Here  we  are  at  the  place ! . . . 
Truly,  I  commit  a  great  treachery ;  but  thrown  upon 


The  Confession.  237 

the  heap  of  ray  other  bad  deeds,  it  will  not  increase  the 
]  ile  much.  And  besides,  woe  to  him  who  shall  dare  to 
harm  a  hair  of  his  head . . .  After  all,  it  is  no  great 
thing ;  a  few  hours  of  seclusion,  with  the  best  comforts 
which  one  can  desire . . .  And  then  I  will  ask  his  par- 
don, . . .  and  he,  as  he  is  so  very  kind,  no  doubt  will 
grant  it  to  me." 

Thus  ruminating  within  himself,  Titta  perceived  that 
they  had  reached  the  appointed  place,  which  was  the 
corner  of  the  street  Mandorlo ;  then,  putting  two 
fingers  into  his  mouth,  he  gave  a  sharp  whistle,  and 
suddenly,  without  knowing  whence  they  came,  as  if 
detaching  themselves  from  the  walls  of  the  houses,  four 
men  appeared,  who  surrounded  the  friar.  Father  Mar- 
cello  started,  overcome  by  surprise,  stretched  his  hand, 
and  grasped  strongly  the  arm  of  Titta,  saying  with  an 
excited  voice : 

"  You  betray  me  !"  But  checking  himself,  he  added 
in  a  milder  tone :  "May  God  forgive  you. — Doming  in 
manus  tuas  commendo  spiritum  meum." 

"  Xo,  my  good  Father,  do  not  doubt  me ;  I  do  not 
wish  to  do  you  any  harm.  I  swear  it  to  you  by  the 
holy  Madonna  Nunziata,  who  being  so  near,  as  you  may 
see,  I  might  almost  say,  she  hears  me.  We  have  no 
need  of  your  life,  but  only  of  your  gown.  We  only 
wish  to  become  yourself  for  a  little  while,  without  your 
ceasing  to  be  what  you  are.  You  shall  be  carried  back 
in  due  time  to  the  convent,  without  any  harm  being 
done  you.  Meanwhile,  you  cannot  proceed  without  you 
allow  us  to  bandage  your  eyes." 

"Do  as  you  will.  .  .Many  more  insults  did  my 
Divine  Master  suffer  for  our  sake.  I  grieve  not  for 


238  Isabella  Orsini. 

myself,  but  for  the  poor  souls  of  those  for  whose  ruin  I 
see  you  are  plotting  some  work  of  darkness." 

And  he  offered  his  head  to  be  bandaged,  desirous  of 
avoiding  as  much  as  possible  the  contact  of  those  vile 
men.  This  done,  and  after  they  had  assured  themselves 
that  he  could  not  see,  they  conducted  him  to  the  square 
of  the  Nunziata,  where  they  made  him  turn  round  many 
times  in  order  that  he  might  not  recognise  the  way  that 
they  intended  to  take  him;  then  they  went  along  the 
via  Studio,  and  the  square  of  St.  Marco,  and  entered 
into  the  Casino. 

Having  conducted  him  into  a  room  prepared  for  the 
occasion,  which  looked  upon  the  gardens  where  the 
windows  had  been  strongly  barred  and  nailed  on  the 
outside,  Titta  hesitating,  his  heart  almost  failing  him  for 
the  shameless  deed,  said  in  a  low  voice : 

"Father,  you  must  allow  me  to  remove  your 
gown." 

"  Beware,  you  would  commit  a  sacrilege,  and  if  God 
should  strike  you  now  with  sudden  death,  your  soul 
would  be  irreparably  lost." 

"  Father,  in  primis,  I  protest  that  I  am  not  doing 
this  for  your  injury;  besides,  I  solemnly  promise  to 
restore  it  to  you  within  a  few  hours  ;  and  finally,  as  the 
weather  is  so  very  warm,  I  cannot  understand  how  a 
man  can  commit  such  a  heavy  sin  in  freeing  you  for  a 
little  while  of  such  heavy  hair-cloth." 

"  When  I  put  this  garment  on,  I  swore  that  I  would 
never  lay  it  aside  during  my  lifetime." 

"  And  you  do  not  break  your  oath,  because  you  suffer 
violence,  and  your  will  does  not  consent  to  it." 


The  Confession.  239 

"  But  why  do  you  use  violence  against  me  ?  In  what 
have  I  offended  you  ?  I  never  saw  you  before." 

"  Oh,  Father,  you  ought  to  perceive  that  I  am  forced 
by  others  to  do  you  violence." 

"  If  you  know  evil,  why  do  you  not  abstain  from 
it?" 

"  It  would  have  been  difficult  before  now :  but  now 
impossible." 

"  Miserable  man !  I  pity  you.  When  you  shall  have 
brought  me  back  this  garment,  it  will  be  stained  with 
blood :  perhaps  it  will  not  be  seen  in  the  eyes  of  men, 
but  God  will  see  it :  a  Christian  soul  shall  then  stand 
before  His  throne,  asking  for  vengeance, . . .  and  he  will 
have  it." 

"  And  would  that  it  were  the  only  one !"  muttered 
Titta.  "Father,  it  is  getting  late;  give  me  your 
gown." 

"  No,  rather  take  my  life." 

"  I  told  you  that  we  needed  your  garment,  and  not 
your  life :  I  beg  you  with  all  my  strength,  and  humbly 
beseech  you  not  to  force  us  to  put  our  hands  upon  you. 
Take  away  the  necessity  of  resorting  to  this  extreme ; 
we  also  are  obeying  those  who  are  more  powerful  than 
we.  And  if  we  did  not  obey,  we  should  all  be 
killed." 

"  Well,  tear  it  from  my  back,  then ; — and  may  God 
reward  him  who  is  the  cause  of  it,  according  to  his 
deserts." 

Titta  and  the  others  closed  around  the  friar,  who 
resisted ;  but  he  was  soon  overcome,  being  but  weak, 
and  his  adversaries  too  numerous.  Having  taken  his 
gown,  they  went  off  hastily,  like  wolves  having  stolen 


240  Isabella  Orsini. 

the  prey,  to  hide  themselves  in  their  cave ;  and  Father 
Marcello,  noticing  from  the  silence  that  he  was  alone, 
took  off  his  bandage. 

Turning  his  eyes  around,  he  saw  a  room  adorned  with 
splendid  pictures,  and  fine  works  of  sculpture  both  in 
marble  and  in  bronze ;  he  saw  also  a  magnificent  bed, 
a  table  loaded  with  various  kinds  of  food  and  wines,  and 
chandeliers  which  shed  a  brilliant  light :  but  he  turned 
his  saddened  eyes  from  all  these  things,  and  rested  them 
upon  &prie-I>ieu,  where  was  a  crucifix  and  book,  which 
from  the  size  he  soon  recognised  as  a  missal.  With 
his  heart  full  he  threw  himself  at  the  feet  of  the  crucifix, 
and  burst  into  bitter  tears. 

He  wept,  for  although  he  was  a  pious  man,  yet  he  was 
flesh  and  blood  like  all  Adam's  children  ;  he  wept  for 
the  atrocious  injury  which  he  had  suffered,  and  the 
sacrilegious  attempt ;  he  wept  for  the  offence  done  to 
God;  he  wept  for  the  soul  or  souls  of  those  against 
whom  he  plainly  saw  some  treacherous  deed  was  about 
to  be  committed ;  and  he  fervently  prayed  that  the 
Lord  might  arise,  and  show  his  power  to  the  wicked. 
Certainly  never  was  a  miracle  begged  with  more  ardent 
vows,  nor  expected  with  greater  faith,  nor  more 
needed :  but  He,  who  might  have  worked  it,  decreed 

otherwise. 

*  *  *  * 

The  stars  began  to  disappear  in  the  heavens,  when 
from  the  interior  of  the  church  of  Santa  Croce,  near  the 
greater  door  in  front,  was  heard  a  jingling  of  keys,  and 
the  tramp  of  heavy  steps.  Immediately  after,  the  bolts 
were  suddenly  withdrawn.  A  lay-brother  put  out  his 
head  looking  right  and  left,  raising  it  as  if  snuffing  the 


The  Confession.  241 

pure  morning  air,  and  rubbing  his  hands  together, 
exclaimed  : — "  A  beautiful  morning  !" — Then  saluting 
again  the  sky  with  a  look,  he  re-entered  the  church  to 
see  if  the  lamps  were  still  burning ;  and  as  they  shed 
only  a  feeble  light,  as  if  ready  to  go  out,  he  hastened 
towards  the  vestry  to  refill  them. 

At  this  moment,  a  monk,  groping  along  the  walls, 
introduced  himself  suspiciously  and  stealthily  into  the 
church  through  the  greater  gate,  and  with  hasty  steps 
approached  a  confessional  under  the  organ,  opened  it,  and 
shut  himself  within  it.  Indeed  this  apparition  might 
have  frightened  the  boldest  man,  for  in  passing  behind 
the  columns  of  the  navade  it  entirely  disappeared,  and 
suddenly  crossing  the  rays  of  lamps  hanging  from  the 
arches,  might  have  been  seen  a  dark  and  tall  figure,  like 
a  phantom,  moving  swiftly  over  the  pavement,  and  across 
the  walls. 

Not  long  after  penitents  began  to  arrive  from  different 
parts,  some  carrying  in  their  hands  lanterns,  some  lighted 
candles,  whose  flames  the  calm  air  hardly  moved,  and  all 
gathered  round  the  confessional  beneath  the  organ,  like 
doves  around  their  grain.  The  confessions  began  :  but 
on  that  day,  with  no  little  astonishment  to  the  devotees, 
it  seemed  as  if  Father  Marcello  had  put  aside  his  accus- 
tomed mildness.  He  would  listen  inattentively,  answer 
but  little,  and  both  in  his  words  and  manners  appeared 
very  different  from  his  usual  custom. 

To  a  certain  mother,  who  accused  herself  of  having 
cursed  her  son,  because  he  had  threatened  to  strike  her, 
he  said  : — "  He  was  right,  for  he  now  punishes  you  for 
not  having  punished  him  enough  at  the  proper  time." 

To  a  man,  who  having  received  a  sum  of  money  in 
11 


242  Isabella  Orsini. 

trust  from  a  friend,  had  invested  it  for  his  own  use, 
and  now  asked  for  pardon  and  advice,  he  replied  shortly 
and  bitterly : — "  Drown  yourself  hi  the  Arno." 

A  woman  came,  who  confessed  that  she  was  too  prone 
to  anger  and  bad  language,  and  then  quarrels  arose 
between  herself  and  her  husband,  and  caused  a  scandal 
and  trouble  in  the  house  :  and  she  begged  him  some 
good  counsels  to  reform  this  bad  temper :  and  the  monk, 
as  if  impatient,  replied :  "Ask  your  mother-in-law!" 

Another  woman,  who  after  having  enumerated  a 
great  number  of  sins,  kept  on  so  long  that  it  would  seem 
she  never  would  end,  he  stopped  short  by  asking: — 
"How  old  are  you  ?" — "  Sixty-five,  Father,  next  August." 
"  So  much  the  better  for  you ;  for,  since  you  are  not  able 
to  leave  sin,  sin  will  soon  leave  you." 

To  a  man,  who  with  tears  in  his  eyes  confessed  to 
having  betrayed  a  relative  by  accusing  him  to  the  justice 
as  a  rebel  and  conspirator  against  the  state,  he  shut  the 
gate  hi  his  face,  saying : — "  Hell  is  wide  enough !" 

And  lastly  we  will  add  what  he  said  to  a  lawyer : — 
"  Father," — said  the  lawyer, — "  in  a  certain  lawsuit  in 
which  I  knew  that  I  was  wrong,  I  deceived  my  adver- 
sary, and  succeeded  in  getting  a  sentence  in  my  favor." 
"  My  son ;  forensic  defence  seems  to  me  sometimes  like  a 
game  at  cards  played  by  two  shrewd  old  gamblers.  It 
is  of  no  use !  A  sin  more,  or  a  sin  less,  more  pulleys 
would  be  needed  to  hoist  up  a  soul  like  yours  into  heaven, 
than  to  pull  up  the  bells  to  the  top  of  the  belfry :  you 
may  go,  it  is  all  lost  time." 

It  is  not  to  be  said  how  astonished  the  penitents  went 
off.  Is  this, — thought  they, — the  holy  man  ?  This  the 
great  theologian  and  learned  divine?  Is  he  the  man 


The  Confession.  243 

able  to  know  our  moral  infirmities,  pitiful  in  hearing 
them,  benign  in  treating  them  ?  He  appears  more  like  a 
man-at-arms  than  anything  else  ;  and  he  would  look  bet- 
ter with  a  helmet  and  sword  than  the  cowl  upon  his 
head,  and  the  breviary  in  his  hand. 

Suddenly,  two  women  wrapped  in  ample  mantillas  of 
black  silk,  little  heeding  the  crowd  that  stood  kneeling 
and  crowded  around  the  confessional,  passed  by;  and 
whilst  one  entered  the  confessional,  the  other  knelt  on  one 
side  in  the  attitude  of  prayer.  The  crowd,  knocked  on 
each  side,  did  not  dare  to  murmur,  but  gave  way  respect- 
fully, saying  to  themselves : — "  These  must  be  two  great 
ladies ;  they  pass  and  trample  on  us !" 

"Father!"  began  the  one  who  went  to  the  confessional. 
The  confessor  started  visibly  ;  he  carried  the  hem  of  his 
garment  to  his  mouth,  took  it  between  his  teeth,  and 
thus  repressing  his  emotion  replied : 

"  Say  on !" 

"Father!  .  .  ."  And  her  words  failed  again.  The 
confessor,  no  longer  impatient,  after  a  suitable  space  of 
time,  repeated  in  a  low  tone  : 

"  Say  on !" 

"  Father,  is  it  really  true  that  God  forgives  every  great 
sin?" 

"This  is  the  greatest  sin  of  which  you  might  perchance 
accuse  yourself.  Have  you  truly  examined  your  own 
conscience  ?  Are  you  disposed  not  to  hide  any  of  your 
acts,  words,  deeds,  omissions,  thoughts,  in  short  every- 
thing ?  Remember  that  St.  Augustine  teaches,  that  con- 
fession is  the  open  demonstration  of  our  internal  infirm- 
ity with  the  hope  of  obtaining  a  cure;  and  although  this 
is  a  great  deal,  yet  it  is  not  enough,  and  a  contrite  and 


244  Isabella  Orsini. 

repentant  heart  is  also  required :  have  you  brought  with 
you  this  repentant  heart  ?  If  so,  as  I  hope,  speak ;  man 
may  first  be  weary  with  sinning,  before  Divine  mercy 
with  forgiving." 

"Amen,  Father,  amen!  I  will  speak  confiding  in  par- 
don, not  because  I  deserve  it,  but  because,  as  you  say, 
Divine  mercy  is  great.  I  have  been  a  sinful  daughter, 
mother,  wife,  citizen,  all  in  short.  .  ." 

"Well!" 

"  As  a  citizen,- 1  have  done  no  good :  many  I  have 
injured,  and  if  even  I  did  good  to  any  one,  I  feel  that  I 
was  moved  less  by  charity  than  by  a  vain  pomp  of 
appearing  generous.  I  hid  not  from  my  left  hand  the 
alms  done  by  my  right ;  I  was  pleased  that  the  world 
should  know  it,  and  people  should  talk  of  it." 

"  This  is  not  a  merit,  but  not  a  sin.  You  have  bought 
worldly  fame :  these  alms  you  will  not  find  registered  in 
the  books  of  heaven.  Recipisti  mercedem  luam,  you 
have  received  your  reward.  It  is  the  charity  of  the 
Pharisee;  and  it  is  generally  what  the  present  world 
give.  Men  now  give  a  penny  with  a  sound  of  trumpets, 
they  notify  it  with  ringing  of  bells,  and  large  printed 
notices  on  all  the  corners  of  the  street  .  .  .  Vanitas 
vanitatum  ....  it  is  all  a  vanity !  Hence  you  may  con- 
sider that  you  have  already  received  your  reward  for  the 
charities  done." 

"As  a  daughter  I  paid  but  little  attention  to  the 
advices  and  admonitions  of  my  father. — I  cannot 
live  for  ever ! — he  would  often  say  to  me :  but  happy 
he,  and  myself  also,  if  he  had  given  me  less  advice, 
and,  may  God  have  mercy  on  his  soul,  a  better  exam- 
ple !" 


The  Confession.  245 

"  And  as  a  wife  ?" 

"  "Wife  ! — Nature  gave  me  a  fatal  gift :  a  most  ardent 
imagination,  restless  desires,  a  wonderful  disposition  to 
learn,  and  a  retentive  memory.  I  learned,  and  exer- 
cised with  passion  all  that  which  is  capable  of  exalting 
the  mind  and  ennobling  the  heart.  Educated  among 
luxuries,  feted,  and  constantly  flattered  with  sweet 
words  ;  surrounded  by  pleasures,  and  manners  loosened 
to  all  sorts  of  dissipations ;  given  as  wife  to  a  man  whom 
I  did  not  know,  nor  who  knew  me;  we  fancied  each 
other  but  little,  and  loved  less ;  he  a  soldier,  I  a  worship- 
per of  the  muses.  One  day,  oppressed  by  insupportable 
ennui,  my  husband  went  off;  he  was  to  remain  away 
three  months,  and  he  stayed  three  years.  I  dared  to 
presume  too  much  to  myself,  and  pride  overcame  me. 
Then  I  fancied  a  destiny,  which  only  my  mind  conceived, 
an  invincible  passion  nourished  only  by  my  own  fancy, 
and  creating,  and  I  may  almost  say  lending  to  a  man 
worthless  in  himself,  the  qualities  of  perfection,  which  I 
dreamed  in  the  ideals  of  my  poetry  ...  I  dug  with  my 
own  hands  the  abyss  wherein  I  fell .  .  .  and  I  was  lost. 
"When  I  awoke  from  that  dream,  I  saw  my  house  full  of 
shame,  and  before  me  a  most  degraded  man,  and  myself 
more  degraded  than  he.  The  harvest  of  guilt  was  fully 
reaped  by  me ; — bitter  tears,  ineffable  grief,  contempt  for 
myself,  repentance,  late  indeed,  but  great,  deep,  and  such 
a  one  that  God  may  have  seen  equalled,  but  never 
greater." 

"  And  was  the  time  long  that  you  lived  in  sin  ?"  in- 
quired the  confessor,  with  a  harsh,  slow  voice. 

"  Oh,  Father,  enough  .  .  .  seek  no  more,  if  you  do  not 
wish  to  see  me  die  of  shame  at  your  feet." 


246  Isabella  Orsini. 

"Well!  But  was  your  lover  a  relative  of  yours? 
What  is  his  name  ?" 

If  Isabella  had  been  less  moved  at  that  moment,  the 
name  of  Troilo  would  have  certainly  escaped  from  her 
mouth :  but  unable  to  speak,  being  forced  to  catch  her 
breath,  she  remembered  she  was  not  obliged  to  reveal 
the  name  of  the  accomplice,  but  rather  charity  imposed 
upon  her  to  keep  it  religiously  secret ;  hence  when  the 
confessor  insisted : 

"  Was  your  lover  a  relative  of  yours  ?  What  is  his 
name  ?" 

She  resolutely  replied : 

"  I  accuse  myself,  not  others.  I  cannot  tell  you  more, 
nor  ought  you  to  ask,  nor  I  to  tell." 

"  What !  This  is  important !  For  the  sin  varies  and 
increases  according  to  the  degree  of  the  relationship. 
And  it  behooves  me  to  explain  to  you,  that  two  are  the 
forms  of  relationship,  the  first  natural,  the  second  reli- 
gious ;  that  is,  for  example,  to  hold  a  child  for  baptism,  con- 
firmation, and  so  forth.  .  .  Hence  by  the  canonical  laws, 
the  cousin  of  your  husband,  for  example,  would  be  a 
relative  of  the  second  degree,  and  then  the  adultery  would 
become  nicest,  a  sin  which  offends  God  more,  and  dis- 
turbs a  great  deal  more  the  laws  of  civil  life." 

"  Alas !  you  make  me  shudder  with  horror !" 

"  Now  then,  speak :  is  the  man  a  relative  of  yours  ?" 

"  Yes,  a  cousin  of  my  husband." 

"  Cousin !" 

"  Nor  is  that  all." 

"No?" 

"I  am  an  unhappy  mother  ...  a  son." 

"  A  son  ?    What  is  his  name  ?    How  old  is  he  ?" 


The  Confession.  247 

"  Only  a  few  months  old." 

"  Not  years,  eh  ...  not  years  ?" 

"  No,  months ;  but  wl  at  matters  this  ?" 

"It  matters  a  great  deal." 

"  And  as  he  is  not  a  brother  to  his  brother,  I  banished 
him  from  my  house,  not  however  from  my  heart." 

"  And  where  did  you  send  him  ?    Where  is  he  now  ?" 

"  There  is  no  need  of  my  saying  this,  Father.  I  have 
done  like  the  eagle  ;  I  have  made  a  nest  for  him  where 
human  malice  cannot  reach  him.  As  regards  property, 
my  legitimate  son  will  not  be  a  sufferer,  for  I  have  left 
him  all  the  property  my  father  left  me." 

Here  she  remained  a  moment  in  silence :  then  remem- 
bering the  time  was  fast  passing,  she  added : 

"  And  now,  Father,  keep  your  promise.  I  have  re- 
vealed everything  to  you ;  opened  my  whole  heart :  now 
you  must  console  me  with  hope ;  proffer  the  great  word, 
which  will  restore  me  my  lost  innocence,  and  make  me 
worthy  of  hoping  for  pardon ; — open  to  me  the  gates  of 
heaven ;  give  me,  you  who  have  the  power,  absolution. . ." 

And  as  the  friar  did  not  reply,  Isabella  entreated 
eagerly : 

u  Why  are  you  silent,  Father  ?  Is  my  sin  so  great 
that  the  Lord  in  his  mercy  cannot  forgive  ?  Did  not 
Peter  deny  Him  ?  Did  not  Paul  persecute  Him  ?  And 
yet  did  they  not  become  chosen  vessels,  and  apostles  of 
the  people?  I  ask  not  so  much;  a  particle  of  pity 
would  be  enough,  a  drop  of  consolation  and  oblivion. 
Release  me  from  sin,  save  me  from  despair.  I  know 
that  in  articulo  mortis  you  can  absolve  cases  reserved 
only  to  the  Pope.  Listen,  you  may  consider  me  on  the 
point  of  death ;  believe  me,  I  am  in  my  last  agony ;  only 


248  Isabella  Orsini. 

a  few  hours  remain  to  me  to  live;  near  the  dreaded 
departure,  you  cannot  deny  me  the  bread  of  hope  and 
pardon,  through  which  the  soul  appears  before  the  tri- 
bunal of  God,  where  trembling  and  trusting  it  awaits 
the  sentence  of  the  minister,  who  represents  God  upon 
this  earth,  to  be  confirmed.  .  ." 

And  still  the  friar  answered  not. 

Isabella  again  prayed,  begged,  and  wept,  but  still  in 
vain.  The  confessional  had  become  as  silent  as  the  grave. 
Then  Isabella  reached  her  hand  impatiently  within  the 
niche  occupied  by  the  confessor,  striving  to  meet  him  in 
the  dark,  fearing  some  sudden  accident  had  befallen 
him.  Let  the  reader  imagine  how  great  was  her  won- 
der, her  grief,  her  terror,  when  she  felt  assured  the  friar 
had  disappeared.  A  cold  shudder  crept  over  her  heart ; 
and  with  a  sigh  she  fell  senseless  upon  the  ground. 

And  it  was  fortunate  for  her  to  have  Lady  Lucrczia 
by  her  side ;  who,  little  occupied  by  her  own  thoughts, 
paid  careful  attention  to  what  was  passing.  She  hastened 
to  her  assistance,  and  succeeded  in  a  short  tune  in  res- 
toring her. 

Isabella,  thinking  on  the  one  hand  of  the  danger  which 
she  had  run  of  raising  a  great  deal  of  scandal  in  the 
church  if  the  people  had  recognised  her,  on  the  other 
hand  seeing  that  the  dawn  was  beginning  to  lighten  the 
sky,  leant  trembling  on  the  arm  of  Lucrezia,  and  hastily 
left  the  church. 

Coming  out  into  the  air,  she  raised  her  eyes  to  heaven, 
where  the  stars  had  disappeared  one  by  one,  not  like 
lights  blown  out  by  a  gust  of  wind,  but  like  sparks  that 
are  consumed  within  a  greater  fire : — thus  human  souls, 
emanations  from  the  Divinity,  set  free  from  the  flesh 


The  Confession.  249 

which  bind  them,  love  to  mingle  again  in  the  great  bosom 
of  God.  From  the  east  a  delicate  veil  of  vapors  tinted 
with  gold  surrounded  beautiful  Florence,  like  a  Madonna 
of  her  immortal  painters  encircled  by  a  radiated  halo. 
Nature  with  all  created  things,  as  a  harpist  pours  from 
the  chords  of  his  lyre  a  torrent  of  melody,  raised  to  the 
Creator  a  morning  hymn ;  there  was  no  object  nor 
being  which  either  with  a  prayer,  or  a  vow  of  the  heart, 
or  the  happiness  of  a  look,  or  with  perfume,  or  with 
a  song  towards  heaven,  did  not  salute  the  Father  of 
light,  and  an  indistinct  murmur  was  diffused  forth 
and  forth  in  the  distance  like  a  trepidation  of  the  old 
mother  Earth  rejoicing  in  feeling  her  chilled  bones 
warmed  by  the  beneficial  heat.  Hail,  O  firstborn  of 
the  thought  of  God ;  hail,  O  Sun,  for  there  is  nothing 
dead  before  you,  and  everything  breathes  and  revives,  and 
from  the  very  sepulchres  where  lay  my  beloved  dead  you 
bring  out  flowers,  ornaments  for  the  hair  of  young  lovers, 
and  loving  maidens. 

Isabella  raised  her  eyes  to  heaven,  and  her  smile  re- 
turned upon  her  pale  face ;  then  turning  her  head  to 
the  spot  where  the  sun  was  about  rising,  she  thus 
spoke : 

"  How  beautiful  is  life !  But  in  order  to  enjoy  it  we 
must  possess  the  youth  of  years,  the  youth  of  the  heart, 
innocence,  and  enthusiasm ;  we  must  be  able  to  stand 
the  comparison  with  the  odor  of  the  flowers,  with  the 
songs  of  birds,  with  the  varied  tints  of  the  wings  of  the 
butterfly,  with  the  exultation  of  the  first  rays  of  the 
morn.  O  life !  since  I  cannot  enjoy  thee  as  I  could 
once,  I  will  not  suffer  thee  as  I  am :  he  who  has  ceased 
to  reign  let  him  throw  aside  his  crown ;  the  royal  man- 
11* 


250  Isabella  Orsini. 

tie  left  upon  the  shoulders  of  him  who  has  no  longer  a 
kingdom,  is  a  weight  and  an  ignominy.  But  is  deatli 
approaching,  perhaps  welcomed  like  the  shadow  of  the 
tree  to  the  traveller,  who  has  walked  from  dawn  over 
burning  sands  under  the  scourge  of  the  sun  ?  Do  I 
approach  it  with  the  desire  of  the  wearied  laborer, 
who  sees  towards  evening,  by  the  uncertain  gleam  of 
twilight,  appear  in  the  distance  the  belfry  of  his  village  ? 
Can  I  say  to  the  grave :  Thou  art  my  bridegroom  ? 
Does  peace  await  me  beyond  the  threshold  of  life  ?  Yes, 
peace  awaits  me,  for  I  have  loved,  hoped,  and  suffered 
greatly.  I  repent  of  another  sin,  which  is  for  having 
desired  to  put  a  mediator  between  myself  and  God. 
The  priest  has  repulsed  me  from  the  temple  :  for  me  it 
is  sufficient  that  thou,  O  Creator  of  all,  dost  not  repulse 
me  from  heaven.  I  confess  myself  to  Thee,  O  Lord ! 
Thou  hast  no  need  of  declarations,  for  with  a  look  Thou 
hast  seen  through  my  heart,  and  penetrated  even  to  its 
inmost  recesses.  I  could  wish  that  my  spirit  might  fly 
towards  Thee  upon  the  first  ray  which  is  about  to  pour 
down  from  behind  that  mountain.  .  .  .  But  if  this  cannot 
be,  keep  Thine  arms  open,  O  Lord,  for  it  will  not  be 
long  before  I  shall  seek  shelter  under  the  mighty  wings 
of  Thy  pardon." 

The  penitents  around  the  confessional  waited  a  long 
time  for  Father  Marcello  to  return  ;  but  he  did  not  ap- 
pear ;  they  went  into  the  vestry  to  inquire  about  him  : 
they  sought  in  his  cell,  in  the  library,  and  through  the 
convent,  but  they  could  not  find  him. 

Feeling  alarmed,  the  monks  went  round  inquiring 
about  him  ;  some  one  said  he  thought  he  saw  him  in 


The  Confession.  251 

the  street  of  Diluvio,  with  his  hood  drawn  over  his  eyes, 
walking  hastily,  as  if  called  to  some  death-bed;  another 
said  that  he  thought  he  saw  him  passing  through  Borgo 
a  Pinti,  so  trembling  hi  his  walk,  that  often  getting  en- 
tangled in  his  gowu,  he  was  on  the  point  of  tailing. 
Where,  however,  he  had  gone,  all  were  ignorant,  and 
could  not  even  imagine.  The  astonishment  increased, 
not  without  also  a  little  fear.  The  Prior  sent  some 
zealous  fathers  of  the  order  to  inquire  courteously  of 
the  guards  of  the  gates :  they  went,  they  sought  dili- 
gently, but  no  one  was  able  to  give  any  information 
about  him.  Meanwhile  between  searches,  terror,  and 
grief,  the  day  had  already  passed ;  to  which  succeeded 
a  few  hours  of  the  evening,  and  the  monks  were  assem- 
bled in  the  refectory,  some  praying,  some  conversing ; 
the  boldest  ones  offered  themselves  to  ascend  upon  the 
pulpits,  and  announce  to  the  people  the  disappearance, 
and  perhaps  martyrdom,  of  Father  Marcello  ;  the  timid 
ones  advised  waiting  to  inquire  better  into  the  matter, 
and  not  to  hasten  it :  there  were  as  many  opinions  as 
there  were  heads,  as  it  always  happens  in  an  assemblage 
of  men  who  meet  to  decide  upon  a  doubtful  event ; — 
when  suddenly  there  was  heard  a  slight  ring  at  the 
bell.  They  all  rose  to  a  man,  for  we  always  see  the 
spirit  of  corporation  to  be  very  strong,  and  all  went  to 
the  door.  Who  can  describe  the  tears,  the  cries  of  joy, 
the  hearty  welcomes,  the  embraces,  and  the  demonstra- 
tions of  affection  that  broke  forth  from  these  brothers, 
when  they  saw  re-appear  their  beloved  Father  Mar- 
cello  ?  He  replied  to  all,  kissed  and  embraced  all  of 
them :  sweet  tears  of  gratitude  ran  down  his  cheeks ; 
but  his  face  appeared  pale,  and  so  deeply  impressed 


252  Isabella  Orsini. 

with  some  internal  grief,  as  to  excite  at  the  same  time 
pity  and  fear. 

He  spoke  briefly,  and  said : — that  he  had  run  a  great 
danger;  it  was  really  a  miracle  that  he  was  alive;  he 
owed  his  life  to  the  mercy  of  God,  and  certainly  also  to 
the  prayers  of  his  brothers :  he  thanked  them  from  the 
bottom  of  his  heart,  and  begged  them  to  be  pleased  to 
accompany  him  to  church  to  render  thanks  to  the 
Almighty,  that  with  so  visible  aid  had  saved  him  from 
so  imminent  a  danger. 

They  went,  and  thanked  God;  afterwards  Father 
Marcello  closeted  with  the  Prior,  and  having  discussed 
the  matter,  and  the  consequences,  thought  best  to  gain 
time,  in  order  to  avoid  scandal,  and  keep  himself  aloof, 
that  no  evil  may  happen  to  him  and  to  the  Order.  He 
was  sent  to  Rome,  in  order  to  inform  the  Pope  of  the 
manner  in  which  the  ministers  of  the  Church  were  abused, 
and  that  he  might  inquire  into  it ;  and  then  returning 
with  the  help  of  the  Pontiff  to  preach  against  these  false 
Catholics,  who  committed  such  nefarious  acts,  that  the 
Lutherans  themselves  would  be  ashamed  of  it. 

It  was  Titta,  who,  conducting  the  friar  unharmed  to 
the  convent,  had  kept  faithfully  his  word. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

DEATH. 

Pues  esta  noche  ha  da  ver 

El  fln  de  mi  desgracio 

Medio  mas  prudente,  y  sabio 

Para  acabarlo  de  hacer. 
Leonor  (hay  de  mi),  Leonor, 

Bella  como  licenciosa, 

Tan  infeliz  como  hermosa, 

lluina  fatal  de  mi  honor. 
Leonor,  que  al  dolor  rendida 

Y  al  sentimiento  postrada 

Dej6  la  muerte  burlada 

En  las  manos  de  la  vida, 

Ila  de  morir 

CALDERON  DE  LA  BARCA. 

This  night  is  destined  to  reveal, 
By  prudent  means  and  cunning  skill, 
My  deep  revenge  for  wounded  pride 
Fulfilled,  accomplished,  satisfied. 

Oh,  Leonor,  can  tears  avail? 
Most  fair,  but,  ah !  most  false  and  frail ; 
Most  loved,  but  most  unhappy  name, 
My  honor's  ruin  and  my  shame. 

Oh,  Leonor,  in  saddest  hour, 
O'erwhelmed  by  griefs  intensest  power, 
Though  once  released  when  death  was  nigh, 
Thy  doom  is  written,  thou  must  die ! 

A  SERVANT  arrives  in  haste  and  reports  to  the  Duchess 
that  the  most  noble  Duke  is  at  the  head  of  the  street 
with  his  lordly  retinue  ;  a  few  moments  later  another 


254  Isabella  Orsini. 

comes  to  say  that  the  Duke  has  entered  the  court-yard, 
that  he  has  dismounted,  that  he  has  begun  to  ascend  the 
stairs.  At  this  intelligence  the  Duchess  rises,  and  sur- 
rounded by  the  gentlemen  of  the  household,  her  maidens 
and  her  women,  with  Troilo  at  her  side,  composing  her 
face  to  appear  calm,  and  calling,  with  Heaven  knows  how 
terrible  an  effort,  a  smile  to  her  lips,  advances,  neither 
hastily  nor  slowly,  but  with  elegant  and  dignified  grace, 
to  welcome  her  husband. 

They  meet  at  the  head  of  the  stairs ;  they  clasp  each 
other  in  their  arms  ;  they  kiss  each  other  again  and  again, 
and  appear  deeply  agitated,  as  indeed  they  are ; — but 
with  what  emotions  ?  That  is  visible  to  God  alone.  To 
the  bystanders  it  seems  only  a  natural  agitation,  arising 
from  the  gratification  of  their  long  cherished  wish  of 
seeing  each  other  again,  from  the  happiness  of  reuniting 
the  members  of  a  family,  separated  with  so  much  sor- 
row ;  in  short,  from  domestic  joys,  which  men  prize  so 
lightly  while  they  possess  them,  but  for  which  they 
mourn,  when  lost,  with  inexpressible  bitterness,  and 
which  are  welcomed  with  such  triumphant  delight  by  the 
fortunate  few  to  whom  it  is  granted  to  recover  them. 
Released  from  the  embraces  of  his  wife,  the  Duke,  who 
was  pre-eminent  for  polished  and  noble  manners,  ad- 
vanced to  Troilo,  pressed  his  hand,  kissed  and  embraced 
him ;  nor  did  he  forget  the  other  members  of  the  house- 
hold, but  speaking  kindly  to  them,  and  calling  them  by 
name,  asked  after  themselves  and  their  families  with  a 
minuteness  which  showed  that  he  had  remembered  care- 
fully both  them  and  their  affairs. 

The  Duke,  the  Duchess,  and  Troilo  having  retired  to 
a  more  private  apartment,  the  Duke  said  : 


Death.  255 

"  I  think  it  would  be  well,  Isabella,  to  send  immedi- 
ately to  inform  your  gracious  brother  of  my  arrival,  so 
that  he  may  kindly  allow  our  Virginio  to  be  sent  home  ; 
I  long  exceedingly  to  see  him.  I  know  well  that  he  is 
becoming  strong  and  valiant,  and  shows  himself  fond  of 
all  kinds  of  knightly  exercises  which  are  fitting  for  a 
great  prince ;  and  indeed,  not  to  speak  of  my  blood, 
descending  from  yours,  which  has  honored  the  world 
Avith  so  many  men  renowned  both  for  military  prowess 
and  for  wisdom,  he  could  not  well  be  otherwise. — But 
what  joy  can  messages  or  letters  cause,  equal  to  that 
which  gladdens  the  heart  of  a  father  at  the  sight  of  the 
dear  face,  and  at  the  sound  of  the  sweet  voice  of  his 
son " 

"  I  have  already  anticipated  your  wisnes,  Giordano. 
A  mother  feels  intuitively  the  desires  of  a  father,  even 
before  they  can  rise  from  his  heart  to  his  lips." 

"  My  best  beloved ! — What  can  I  say  to  you  ?  How 
find  words  to  express  my  thanks  ?  Oh,  what  a  comfort 
is  this  air  of  home,  which  I  can  call  truly  mine !  How 
soothingly  do  these  emotions  descend  upon  the  soul, 
like  the  sweet  breath  of  spring,  to  disperse  every  cloud 
of  melancholy,  of  vexing  care,  of  passion.  Yes,  yes,  the 
air  of  the  open  plains  or  of  the  mountain  heights,  the 
sea-breeze  that  swept  my  face  on  the  day  of  the  battle 
of  Lepanto, — I  will  not  say  that  these  were  not  most 
grateful  to  me, — I  enjoyed  even  the  wild  tumult  of  the 
battle  itself,  and  the  dazzling  brilliancy  of  the  sun's  rays 
glancing  from  the  armor  of  the  Christians,  and  glorious 
above  all  was  the  proud  shout  of  victory, — but  oh ! — 
the  air  of  my  home, — the  air  of  my  home,— that  I  have 
found  nowhere 1" 


256  Isabella  Orsini. 

"  But  not  on  downy  plumes,  nor  under  shade 
Of  canopy  reposing,  fame  is  won, 

as  Dante  says,  and  you  have  added  a  most  noble  monu- 
ment of  praise  to  the  renowned  honor  of  your  house. 
Certainly  it  is  an  arduous  undertaking  to  exalt  what  is 
already  so  high ;  to  the  eagle  alone  is  it  granted  to 

commence  his  flight  from  the  summit  of  the  Alps " 

"  A  mere  fable !  In  my  opinion,  your  poet  would 
have  done  much  better  to  compare  glory  to  '  smoke  in 
air  or  foam  upon  the  wave.'*  Peace,  rest,  is  what  men 
crave  incessantly.  The  more  boldly  we  arrange  our 
affairs  or  enterprises,  the  more  sharply  our  passions 
sting  us,  so  much  the  more  rapidly  does  time,  exerting 
all  the  power  of  his  heavy  wing,  hurl  ruin  upon  human 
beings,  affairs,  renown,  and  hearts.  This  power,  like  the 
wind,  strikes  with  greatest  force  the  loftiest  summits ; 
the  raging  whirlwind,  which  rends  the  oak  upon  the 


*  Ormai  convien  che  tu  cosi  ti  spoltre, 

Disse  '1  Maestro,  che,  seggendo  in  piuma, 
Infama  non  si  vien,  ne  sotto  coltre ; 
Sanza  la  qual  chi  sua  vita  consuma, 
Cotal  vestigio  in  terra  di  se  lascia, 
Qaalfiimo  in  oere  od  in  ocqua  la  schiuma. 

LNFERXO  XXIV. 

"  Now  needs  thy  best  of  man ;"  so  spake  my  guide: 
"  For  not  on  downy  plumes,  nor  under  shade 

Of  canopy  reposing,  fame  is  won ; 

Without  which  whosoe'er  consumes  his  days, 

Leaveth  such  vestige  of  himself  on  earth, 

As  smoke  in  air,  or  foam  upon  the  wave." 

GARY'S  Translation. 


Death.  257 

mountain-top,  is  gentle  to  the  violet  in  the  vale, — I  am 
old " 

"  Alas  !  Do  you,  then,  think  that  the  passions  which 
are  most  active  in  corroding  the  human  heart,  are  those 
which  chiefly  haunt  the  court  and  camp  ?  Often  in 
gilded  halls,  beneath  draperies  of  damask,  are  kindled 
flames  fiercer,  not  only  than  any  other  earthly  ones,  but 
than  those  of  the  infernal " 

"  However  it  may  be  with  others,  see  here,  my  face 
is  full  of  wrinkles,  while  as  to  you,  time  has  hardly  dared 
to  touch  the  corner  of  your  eyes  with  the  downy  tip  of 
his  wings." 

"  Is  it,  then,  the  face  alone  that  grows  old  ?  Do  you 
not  know  that  man  sometimes  survives  himself?  Do 
you  not  know  that  the  heart  often  rests  within  the 
breast  like  a  corpse  in  the  coflin  ?  Ah,  Giordano !  I 
swear  to  you  by  the  Crucifix,  that  the  sorrows  suffered 
by  you,  on  account  of  your  long  and  distant  separation 
from  your  home,  are  not  nearly  so  severe  as  those  which 
I  have  endured,  remaining  here,  forsaken  and  solitary. 
I  recognise  in  my  pallid  face  the  tokens  of  the  worn  out 
spirit.  Do  not  deny  it ;  do  not  shake  your  head  as  if 
you  did  not  think  so.  I  possess  a  stern  friend,  who, 
neither  by  threats,  nor  by  supplications,  nor  by  bribes, 
can  be  restrained  from  speaking  the  truth  ;  who,  if  bro- 
ken into  a  thousand  fragments,  would  assume  a  thou- 
sand tongues  to  repeat  it  to  me  more  persistently  than 
ever ;  who  ought  to  be  banished  from  Court,  since  he 
will  not  bend  to  flattery,  and  nevertheless  he  is  one 
whom  we  could  not  possibly  do  without.  And  is  called 
— as  you  must  already  have  guessed — Looking-glass  !" 

"  No,  indeed,  I  had  not  a  suspicion  of  it ;  I  was  rack- 


258  Isabella  Orsini. 

ing  my  brains  to  discover  who  this  Anaxarchus  could 
be."* 

"  Messere  Virginio !"  announced  a  page,  raising  the 
hangings  of  the  door ;  and  immediately  after  entered  a 
youth,  just  on  the  verge  of  manhood,  remarkably  hand- 
some, though  rather  sedate  in  manner,  and  dressed  in 
dark  colors. 

Have  you  seen  a  ferocious  animal  called  the  jaguar, 
as,  with  a  terrific  spring,  he  bounds  from  his  hiding- 
place  upon  his  expected  prey  ?  It  must  have  been  with 
a  bound  little  less  terrific  that  the  Duke  threw  himself 
upon  his  son  Virginio ;  for  in  those  times  the  passions 
were  much  more  demonstrative  than  was  necessary,  and, 
whether  tender  or  fierce,  most  vehement  always,  and  as 
the  simoom  whirls  about  the  sands  of  the  desert,  so  they 
subverted  the  sentiments  of  the  soul.  He  clasped  Vir- 
ginio convulsively  to  his  heart,  kissed  his  hair  and  his 
face,  held  him  long  in  his  arms,  and  almost  suffocated 
him  with  embraces,  as  the  boa-constrictor  tightens  his 
coils  around  his  enemy ; — he  dreaded,  with  passionate 
jealousy,  that  others  should  share  in  his  joy ;  he  drew 
him  to  one  side,  gazed  earnestly  into  his  eyes,  and  then 
breaking  out  into  actual  weeping,  he  exclaimed,  hi  a  voice 
broken  by  sobs : 

*  Anaxarchus,  a  philosopher  of  Abdera,  one  of  the  followers  of 
Democritus,  and  the  friend  of  Alexander.  "When  the  monarch  had 
been  wounded  in  a  battle,  the  philosopher  pointed  to  the  place,  add- 
ing, that  is  human  blood,  and  not  the  blood  of  a  god.  This  freedom 
offended  Nicocreon,  tyrant  of  Cyprus,  who  ordered  him  to  be  pounded 
in  a  stone  mortar,  with  iron  hammers.  While  the  executioners  were 
performing  the  sentence,  he  exclaimed,  as  long  as  his  strength  lasted ; 
"  Pound  the  body  of  Anaxarchus ;  but  thou  canst  not  pound  his  soul." 


Death.  259 

"  O  my  son !  O  my  own  child !  Hope  and  pride  of 
the  noble  house  of  Orsini !" 

All  marvelled ;  and  Virginio,  instead  of  replying  to 
such  extravagant  demonstrations  of  affection,  seemed 
almost  bewildered  by  them,  and  looked  towards  his 
mother,  as  if  longing  for  her  more  tender  caresses ;  but 
the  father  endeavored  to  monopolize  all  the  attention  of 
his  son,  endeavored  to  interpose  his  own  person  between 
his  eager  eyes  and  the  beloved  parent  they  sought.  Vir- 
ginio succeeded,  at  last,  in  freeing  himself  from  such  ar- 
dent endearments,  and  flew  to  his  mother's  outstretched 
arms ;  they  remained  long  clasped  in  a  rapturous  em- 
brace, which  can  be  likened  to  nothing  on  earth  but  it- 
self, the  embrace  given  by  a  tender  mother  to  a  beloved 
son ;  nor  even  in  Heaven  can  the  embraces  of  the  angels 
before  the  throne  of  the  Eternal  surpass  it  in  affection. 

The  Duke  watched  these  two  beings  with  a  gaze  full 
of  sadness ;  his  heart  swelled  within  him,  and  a  half- 
stifled  sigh  escaped  his  lips ;  his  angry,  blood-shot  eyes 
turned  with  a  truculent  expression  upon  Troilo,  who, 
overwhelmed  with  confusion,  kept  his  fixed  upon  the 
earth.  It  is  not  to  be  doubted  that  if  Isabella  and  Troilo 
had  not  been  wholly  preoccupied  at  that  moment,  the 
former  with  the  dear  delight  of  seeing  her  son  again,  the 
latter  with  the  reproaches  of  his  conscience,  they  would 
have  read  their  own  condemnation  in  those  fearful 
glances  of  the  Duke,  for  they  revealed  the  hell  in  his  heart. 

As  if  he  could  hardly  endure  to  see  so  closely  united, 
two  souls  destined  so  soon  to  separate,  or  rather,  jealous 
of  an  affection  which  he  wished  and  intended  to  turn  en- 
tirely to  himself,  he  called  Virgiuio  to  him  in  a  some- 
what sharp  tone,  and  said: 


260  Isabella  Orsini. 

"  It  does  not  belong  to  me  to  examine  the  progress 
you  have  made  in  letters,  for  of  such  matters  I  know  but 
little  ;  but  tell  me,  how  well  can  you  manage  a  horse  ? 
How  wield  your  arms  ?  Do  swords  frighten  you  ?" 

"  Try  and  see." 

"  With  all  my  heart ;"  and  the  Duke  sent  a  servant 
for  his  fencing  weapons,  without  which,  he,  a  most  skil- 
ful swordsman,  never  travelled.  Then  commenced  a 
furious  passage  of  arms,  in  which  if,  as  might  be  ex- 
pected, the  Duke  was  the  superior  in  strength,  Virginio 
on  his  side  .showed  a  skill  equal  to  his  father's,  and  for 
his  years  truly  wonderful. 

"  Troilo  !"  exclaimed  the  Duke,  exultingly  ;  "  Troilo, 
by  my  faith  he  is  one  of  the  best  swordsmen  that  I  have 
ever  encountered.  I  beg  of  you,  Troilo,  to  try  him 
yourself;  there  was  a  time,  Troilo,  when  our  officers 
considered  you  an  excellent  fencer." 

"  There  was  a  time,  yes — but  now  I  feel  that  I  am 
weaker.  Oh,  how  much  better  would  it  have  been  for 
me  to  have  won  for  myself  either  renown  or  an  honor- 
able death " 

"What?  In  guarding  my  honor,  Troilo,  can  you 
possibly  have  drawn  dishonor  upon  yourself?" 

"  No ;  but  I  think  it  would  have  been  more  desirable 
to  have  been  at  the  Curzolares." 

"Learn,  Troilo,  that  in  every  station  where  a  man 
conducts  himself  as  an  honorable  knight,  he  may  win 
honor.  Come,  now,  to  oblige  me,  try  him." 

And  Troilo  did  try ;  but  his  arm  trembled  so  that  he 
could  hardly  hold  his  sword  ;  he  kept  merely  upon  the 
defensive,  and  soon,  as  if  wearied,  lowered  his  weapon. 

"  I  am  no  longer  what  I  was ;  my  strength  is  half- 


Death.  261 

spent.  If  God  grants  me  life,  I  have  determined  to  go 
and  reinvigorate  myself  by  the  discipline  of  the  Knights 
of  Malta.' 

"  It  will  be  a  meritorious  work,  Troilo ;  and  it  will  be 
well  to  go  now,  for  his  Holiness  the  Pope  has  promised 
great  indulgences  to  all  who  will  arouse  themselves  to 
fight  against  the  infidels.  You  are  weary  of  idleness,  I 
of  action,  and  we  both  seek  change  of  life.  It  is  the  way 
of  the  world ;  we  are  never  contented  with  our  present 
lot ;  we  are  like  sick  men,  who,  tossing  from  side  to 
side,  seek  ease  from  their  pain.  I  do  not  know  whether 
the  sepulchre  can  give  us  fame,  but  certainly  the  sepul- 
chre alone  can  give  repose.  But  why  do  I  speak  of 
sepulchres  ?  And  why  do  you  look  so  sad  ?  This  is  a 
day  of  rejoicing.  It  is  one  of  those  days  that  smoothe 
away  more  than  one  wrinkle  from  the  brow  and  from 
the  heart.  Enjoy  yourselves.  I  feel  that  I  am  the  hap- 
piest man  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  My  house  must 
resound  with  festive  shouts.  Rejoice !  I  beg  of  you, 
rejoice  !  I  command  you " 

"Do  you  think  that  joy  can  be  commanded  like  a 
regiment  of  soldiers  ?"  asked  Isabella  in  a  languid  voice. 

o  o 

"  What  prevents  it  from  being  spontaneous  ?" 
"  Our  souls  readily  don  the  habit  of  sadness,  and  can- 
not lay  it  aside  as  we  women  do  a  veil  or  girdle.  And 
then  there  are  modest  and  hidden  joys  that  vanish  in 
the  open  air,  and  must  be  guarded  like  the  vestal  flame 
in  the  sanctuary  of  the  heart." 

"  No,  thank  God  I  love  free  and  open  joy,  I  love  the 
noisy  mirth  that  takes  pleasure  in  bonfires,  in  feasts  and 
banquets,  and  delights  in  flowers  and  sweet  sounds. 
Welcome,  cheerfulness !  that  gilds  herself  in  the  first 


262  Isabella  Orsini. 

rays  of  the  morning  sun,  refreshes  herself  with  the  dews, 
traverses  fields  and  meadows,  and  hunts  the  wild  beasts. 
To  the  country,  say  I,  to  the  country ;  we  cannot 
breathe  at  ease  hi  these  prisons  which  they  call  cities ; 
an  oppression  weighs  upon  the  breast  and  vexes  the 
heart.  Let  us  see  if  there  we  can  still  be  melancholy. 
I  wish  to  see  you  merry ;  I  will  make  you  all  cheerful, 
or  I  am  not  Paolo  Giordano  Orsini,  Duke  of  Bracciano. 
Listen,  Isabella ;  I  have  determined  to  pay  a  visit  to  his 
Highness  your  brother  ;  Virginio  shall  go  with  me ;  and 
having,  as  is  proper,  rendered  my  due  respects  to  him,  I 
shall  immediately  take  leave,  and  we  can  go,  without 
delaying  any  longer  in  town,  to  our  beautiful  Cerreto. 
There  are  pleasant  shades,  wild  beasts,  and  leafy  groves ; 
there  flow  deep  cool  streams ;  there  the  eye  can  rest 
with  delight  upon  the  greater  part  of  this  earthly  para- 
dise which  we  salute  by  the  name  of  Tuscany.  No  one 
can  hope  to  taste  the  pleasures  of  domestic  life  better 
than  in  the  quiet  of  the  fields  or  under  the  shade  of  the 
forests ;  there  we  shall  feel  ourselves  happy.  Are  you 
not  pleased,  Isabella?  Certainly  you  have  too  much 
enthusiasm  in  your  soul  to  deny  this.  The  husband  of 
a  poetess,  I  open  my  heart  to  the  spirit  of  poetry." 

"  I  like  whatever  pleases  you,  my  dear  Lord ;  but 
think  how  intensely  warm  it  is,  and  how  much  plea- 
santer  it  would  be  to  travel  by  night." 

"  Yes,  truly,  we  are  stifled  here.  Do  you  not  feel  as 
if  it  were  raining  fire  ?  I  do  not  know  the  sun  in  Flo- 
rence. During  the  whiter  he  creeps  from  cloud  to  cloud 
like  a  criminal,  who  by  mixing  in  the  crowd  seeks  to 
csc:i])o,  the  sheriff;  then  in  the  summer  he  stands 
riveted  in  the  heavens,  and  seems  to  wish  us  the  fate  he 


Death.  263 

brought  upon  his  son  Phaeton.  But  does  a  soldier  care 
for  the  sun  ?  What  do  you  think,  Troilo  ?" 

"  By  your  leave  I  should  agree  with  the  Duchess." 

"  Well,  well,  if  the  sun  hurts  you,  you  can  go  in  the 
carriage  with  her ;  we  shall  go  on  horseback." 

"  I,  too,  will  go  on  horseback,"  cried  Troilo  in  an 
excited  tone,  and  the  Duke  replied,  smiling — 

"  I  did  not  intend  to  offend  you,  Troilo ;  I  thought 
that  you  might  wish  to  continue  the  good  and  faithful 
guardianship  that  you  have  hitherto " 

And  without  finishing  his  sentence,  he  took  Virginio 
by  the  hand,  and  promising  that  he  would  return  shortly, 
accompanied  by  an  honorable  retinue  of  gentlemen,  he 
departed  to  pay  a  visit  of  courtesy  to  his  brother-in-law. 

As  soon  as  he  was  gone,  Troilo  and  Isabella,  as  may 
readily  be  imagined,  strained  every  faculty  of  their  minds 
to  weigh  the  words  uttered  by  the  Duke,  and  to  submit 
to  a  rigorous  examination  his  gestures,  looks,  and  every 
little  trifle  which  would  have  escaped  eyes  less  vigilant 
than  theirs.  They  were  so  completely  absorbed  in  their 
anxious  doubts,  that  if  an  earthquake  had  shaken  the 
city,  they  would  not  have  perceived  it,  which,  as  we 
read  in  history,  actually  happened  to  the  Romans  and 
Carthaginians  during  the  battle  of  Lake  Trasymene. 
AVhat  was  also  very  remarkable,  was,  that  their  reflec- 
tions terminated  at  the  same  moment,  and  in  entirely 
opposite  conclusions,  for  while  Troilo  laid  aside  all  fear, 
Isabella  bade  adieu  to  every  gleam  of  hope. 

Without  requiring  the  language  of  the  lips,  they  had, 
by  means  of  the  many  other  modes  of  expression  of 
which  the  human  face  is  capable,  made  known  to  each 
other  the  subject  of  their  thoughts,  and  the  decision 


264  Isabella  Orsini. 

which  they  had  each  formed.  When  Troilo  perceived 
that  they  did  not  agree,  an  insane  desire  took  possession 
of  him,  to  learn  more  exactly  Isabella's  opinion.  But  to 
dismiss  the  numerous  guests  did  not  seem  polite,  neither 
was  it  prudent,  in  their  presence,  to  hold  any  secret 
conversation,  and  it  was  dangerous  to  allow  Troilo  to 
continue  his  nods  and  signs,  unfortunately  too  evident 
to  every  one,  that  he  wished,  at  all  hazards,  to  speak  to 
her ;  so,  as  the  best  thing  that  she  could  do,  she  went 
to  a  table,  and  taking  up  Petrarch's  Lyric  Poems,  found 
a  sonnet,  read  it  attentively,  and  marking  lightly  with 
her  nail  that  part  of  the  page  to  which  she  wished  to 
draw  Troilo's  attention,  she  left  it  open,  making  a  sign 
to  him  to  read  it;  then  turning  away,  she  joined  with 
her  usual  brilliancy  in  the  conversation  of  those  stand- 
ing near  her.  Troilo,  as  soon  as  he  thought  that  he 
could  do  so  without  attracting  observation,  approached 
the  table,  and  read  at  the  place  marked : 

But  though  it  be  our  hapless  lot  to  lie 

In  durance  vile,  of  former  peace  bereft, 
Yea,  though  the  fates  decree  that  we  should  die, 

One  consolation  still  to  us  is  left, 
He  who  to  us  our  liberty  denies, 

Lies  willing  captive  to  another's  powers ; 
Pierced  by  the  archer's  fatal  shafts  he  lies, 

And  wears  a  closer,  heavier  chain  than  ours.* 

*  Ma  del  misero  stato  ove  noi  semo 
Condotte  dalla  vita  altra  serena, 
Un  sol  conforto,  e  della  morte,  avemo : 
Che  vendetta  6  di  lui  ch'  a  cio  ne  mena  ; 
Lo  qual  in  forza  altrui,  presso  all'  estremo, 
Rinian  legato  con  maggior  catena. 


Death.  265 

Troilo  shrugged  his  shoulders,  saying  to  himself: — 
"  She  really  enjoys  thinking  herself  past  all  hope  ;  but 
how  can  she  help  seeing  clearly  that  the  Duke  is  the 
happiest  man  in  the  world  ?  She  wishes,  and  indeed  it 
would  be  for  her  advantage,  that  I  should  go  away. 
But  we  know  each  other  of  old ;  and  I  have  never  felt 
so  much  disposed  as  now  to  stay  and  see  the  end  of  it. 
That  I  must  give  place,  is  all  right  and  proper ;  if  they 
wish  me  to  give  with  one  hand,  I  will  give  with  two  ; 
but  we  must  capitulate  on  honorable  conditions ;  must 
come  to  advantageous  terms ;  I  intend  to  depart  with 
military  honors,  taking  my  arms  and  baggage,  not  to  bo 
driven  away  like  an  old  servant." 

It  was  not  long  before  the  Duke  reappeared,  honor- 
ably accompanied,  but  without  Virginio.  When  Isa- 
bella saw  him  enter  alone  the  last  ray  of  hope  was  extin- 
guished in  her  heart,  the  entire  renunciation  of  which  is 
most  difficult  for  the  human  heart.  Then  she  seemed 
indeed  to  road  her  sentence  of  death.  Death  is  terrible 
to  all,  but  especially  so  to  those  who,  from  physical 
weakness,  shrink  from  suffering  it.  A  cold  shudder  ran 
through  her  bones,  her  face  became  deathly  pale,  her 
livid  h'ps  quivered  convulsively.  No  one  can  deny  that 
her  own  sense  must  have  taught  her  that  it  would  be 
impossible  to  use  violence  against  a  mother  in  presence 
of  her  son.  She  went  towards  the  Duke,  and  with  an 
indescribable  expression  asked  him  : 

"  Where  is  our  Virginio  ?" 

"  Your  brother  insisted  upon  keeping  him ;  he  says 
that  his  attention  is  too  easily  diverted,  and  that  it  is  a 
most  difficult  thing  to  bring  him  back  again  to  his  daily 
routine.  In  truth,  it  seems  hard  that  I  should  not  enjoy 

12 


266  Isabella  Orsini. 

my  son's  society,  after  so  many  years  of  separation,  but 
you  know  it  is  for  our  interest  to  conciliate  his  Highness. 
However,  he  has  promised  to  send  him  for  one  day  to 
our  country-seat,  accompanied  by  his  tutor " 

"  Country-seat  ?  which  country-seat  ?" 

"  Cerreto." 

"  When  ?" 

"  Very  soon." 

"  He  will  certainly  send  him  to  the  country,  but  not 
to  Cerreto.  To-morrow,  perhaps " 

"  He  did  not  say  to-morrow  ?" 

"  No !  but  my  heart  tells  me — Alas  !  Why  did  I  not 
give  him  a  farewell  kiss  ?" 

"Do  you  fear  that  you  will  not  have  time  to  kiss 
him  ?» 

"  Do  you  believe  that  I  shall  have  time  to  kiss  him  ?  " 
demanded  Isabella,  with  a  look  that  seemed  to  penetrate 
into  the  inmost  recesses  of  his  heart.  The  Duke,  glanc- 
ing away  from  her,  tried  to  escape  her  questionings  and 
pleadings. 

"  Of  course  I  believe  it ;  what  is  there  to  prevent  ? 
If  he  should  forget  it,  we  can  send  for  him.  Come, 
then,  to  horse ;  what  need  is  there  of  further  delay  ? 
To  Cerreto — to  peace — to  rest — to  repose  after  our  long 
labors — to  sweet  sleep  !" 

"  Stultum  est  somno  delectari,  mortem  horrere  :  cum 
somnus  assiduus  sit  mortis  mutatio"* 

"  What  are  you  murmuring,  Isabella  ?" 

"  I  just  happened  to  think  of  a  sentence  in  Seneca, 
about  sleep  the  brother  of  death." 

*  It  is  foolish  to  enjoy  sleep  and  to  be  terrified  at  death,  for  eternal 
sleep  would  be  death. 


Death.  267 

"  How  can  such  a  quotation  apply  to  us  ?" 

"  It  does  not."  And  two  tears — two  only — came  to 
her  eyes,  but  instead  of  rolling  down  her  cheeks  in  the 
usual  manner,  they  sprang  from  her  lids  like  the  last 
arrow  shot  from  the  bow  of  Grief.* 

"  To  horse  I" 

The  servants,  hurried  by  the  impetuosity  of  Titta, 
whom  they  perceived  that  they  must  obey  as  the  Duke, 
or  even  more  than  the  Duke,  prepared  with  wonderful 
celerity  horses,  carriages,  and  a  waggon,  with  such  arti- 
cles as  could  not  be  readily  obtained  in  the  country. 
The  major-domo,  Don  Inigo,  had  asked  with  his  usual 
brevity,  "  Whether  it  would  be  necessary  to  carry  much 
plate  and  linen  ?"  but  Titta  replied, 

"  Why,  no,  major-domo,  for  I  do  not  think  that  we 
shall  stay  very  long  at  Cerreto." 

They  set  out.  The  sun  darted  down  his  fiery  rays, 
the  winds  were  silent,  there  was  not  a  breath  of  air,  and 
the  stifling  glare  of  the  tyrant  of  the  skies  oppressed 
all  nature.  The  leaves  of  the  trees  hung  motionless,  for 

*  In  the  Memoirs  of  the  Mare'schal  de  Bassompierre,  occurs  the  fol- 
lowing remarkable  passage :  "  Maria  dei  Medici,  when  her  authority 
as  regent  was  on  the  decline,  intended  to  refuse  the  request  of  some 
of  her  barons  to  recall  several  exiles,  which  they  were  urging  upon 
her  with  great  persistency ;  but  she  did  not  dare  to  pronounce  her 
refusal  until  she  knew  her  actual  condition.  So,  on  some  pretence 
she  called  Bassompierre  aside,  and  asked  him  what  means  of  resist- 
ance remained  to  her.  Bassompierre  replied,  '  None,  especially  since 
some  of  her  friends,  such  as  the  Marquis  d'Ancre,  had  abandoned 
her.'  Lors  la  reine  ne  peut  se  tenir  de  jeter  quatre  ou  cinq  larmes,  se 
tournaut  vers  la  fenetre  afin  qu'on  ne  la  vit  pas  pleurer,  et,  ce  que  je 
riavois  jamais  vu,  ettes  ne  couKrent  point  comme  quand  on  a  accoulume 
de  pleurer,  mais  se  DARDERENT  hors  des  yeux  sanscouler  sur  lesjoues." 


268  Isabella  Orsini. 

not  a  breath,  not  a  sigh  of  wind  dared  to  stir  them ;  the 
waters  ceased  their  accustomed  murmur;  in  such  still 
silence,  in  such  intense  solitude,  the  locusts  alone,  as  if 
drunk  with  the  heat,  labored  in  their  monotonous  song, 
which  ends  with  their  lives ;  some  lizards,  gliding  across 
the  road  with  the  speed  of  an  arrow,  sought  shelter  from 
the  heat  from  bush  to  bush.  To  increase  the  distress  of 
the  journey,  the  dust,  disturbed  by  the  trampling  of  the 
horses'  feet,  rose  in  clouds  and  settled  thickly  upon  the 
hair  and  clothes  of  the  riders.  The  horses,  losing  their 
usual  spirit,  walked  panting,  with  drooping  ears,  and 
streaming  with  perspiration.  The  Duke,  his  face  in  a 
flame,  and  tormented  also  by  insupportable  fury,  dis- 
guised his  uneasiness,  and  said  in  a  voice  which  he  endea- 
vored to  render  cheerful : 

"This  sun-bath  revives  one's  blood.  Men  born  on 
Italian  ground  must  feel  their  hearts  refreshed  by  the 
rays  of  the  *  day-star ;'  heat  is  the  father  of  life,  nay,  life 
itself,  for  we  are  born  warm  and  we  die  cold." 

Meantime,  with  infinite  trouble  they  had  reached  the 
banks  of  the  Arno.  A  few  days  before  a  sudden  shower 
of  rain  had  fallen,  which,  although  it  had  increased  the 
sultriness,  for  it  seemed  as  if  it  had  rained  fire,  had 
nevertheless  raised  the  level  of  the  Arno,  whose  swollen 
waters  rolled  swiftly  by.  The  ferryman  being  sum- 
moned, hastened  at  the  sight  of  such  a  noble  and  unex- 
pected company,  and  proposed  to  take  them  in  two 
trips,  for  the  river  being  so  high,  and  the  boat  so  hea- 
vily laden,  he  feared  that  some  disaster  might  happen. 
But  all  were  impatient  to  cross  the  stream,  and  the  Duke 
particularly;  so  the  knights  dismounted  from  their 
steeds,  the  ladies  descended  from  the  carriage,  and  they 


Death.  269 

all  entered  the  boat,  together  with  the  animals  and 
vehicles,  without  paying  the  slightest  attention  to  the 
remonstrances  of  the  boatman,  who  did  not  cease  to 
warn  them  of  the  danger.  The  Duke  and  Isabella 
advanced  to  the  prow  of  the  boat,  which  would  first 
touch  the  shore,  without  exchanging  a  word.  He  gazed 
intently  at  the  waters  as  they  ran  swiftly  by,  urged  on, 
as  it  were,  by  some  mysterious  agency,  and  murmuring 
hoarsely  as  if  complaining  of  the  fleeting  destiny  granted 
to  them  by  the  fates.  Suddenly,  as  if  speaking  to  him- 
self he  said : 

"  These  waves,  which  pass  so  rapidly  before  my  eyes, 
will  certainly  grow  quiet  in  the  sea ;  but  where  go  the 
human  souls  which  pass  away  no  less  swiftly  ?" 

""Wherever  it  pleases  the  mercy  of  God,"  replied 
Isabella. 

"  Mercy !  Say  rather  to  whatever  place  we  may  de- 
serve by  the  works  and  merits  which  we  perform  during 
this  passage  to  the  tomb  which  we  call  life." 

"  My  dear  Giordano,  let  no  human  creature  presume 
to  save  himself  by  his  own  merits.  What  should  we  be, 
if  God  did  not  assist  us  ?" 

"  You  confide  much  in  the  mercy  of  God  ?" 

"Entirely." 

"  But  if  the  priests  should  declare  you  unpardonable  ?" 

"I  should  not  despair,  unless  I  should  myself  hear 
that  severe  sentence  from  the  immortal  lips  of  the  Fa- 
ther of  Mercies." 

"  But  God  is  a  judge  and  avenger :  He  visits  the 
generations,  and  '  visits  the  sins  of  the  fathers  upon  the 
children  unto  the  third  and  fourth — ' " 

"  We  know  another  law,  which  is  pardon,  charity,  and 


2jo  Isabella  Orsini. 

love ;  the  blessed  Santa  Teresa  calls  the  devil  unhappy, 
because  he  can  neither  pardon  nor  love — " 

"  God  help  us ! — We  shall  upset !" — 

These  cries  suddenly  interrupted  the  conversation. 
In  a  moment,  all  was  fear  and  confusion.  The  rope 
attached  to  the  rudder  broke,  and  the  force  of  the  cur- 
rent, pushing  the  boat  on  one  side,  nearly  submerged  it, 
all  control  over  it  being  thus  lost ;  the  peril  was  im- 
minent, increased  as  it  was  by  the  uneasy  motions 
of  the  men  and  animals ;  the  edge  of  the  boat  already 
touched  the  water ;  it  was  on  the  point  of  filling  hope- 
lessly. 

The  Duke  appeared  not  only  free  from  all  fear  in  that 
tumult,  but  even  enjoyed  it,  and  with  a  great  shout 
exclaimed : 

"  Let  us  all  go  to  the  bottom  together !" 

But  the  ferryman,  with  a  strong  push  of  his  pole,  was 
just  in  time  to  support  the  side  towards  which  the  boat 
careened,  and  to  save  it  from  disappearing  beneath 
the  surface.  Rescued  thus  from  the  immediate  danger, 
the  others  assisted  the  ferryman,  and  by  means  of  their 
united  strength,  they  succeeded,  although  with  diffi- 
culty, in  keeping  the  boat  steady;  a  servant,  with  a 
rope  in  his  hand,  then  sprang  into  the  water,  and  cross- 
ing the  stream,  reached  the  opposite  shore,  where,  with 
the  aid  of  some  peasants  who  were  waiting  to  cross,  he 
drew  the  rope,  one  end  of  which  was  fastened  to  the 
boat,  and  succeeded  in  bringing  it  to  a  place  of  safety. 
•They  landed,  but  when  the  ferryman,  cap  in  hand,  tried 
to  recall  himself  to  their  memories,  which  seemed  cou- 
sins-german  to  forgetfuluess,  Isabella,  looking  back  at 
him,  said : 


Death.  271 

"Why  did  you  save  us?  Many  would  have  died 
innocent,  who  will  now  be  lost." 

And  the  Duke : 

"  Why  did  you  save  us  ?  Who  told  you  to  ?  Who 
asked  you  to  ?  We  should  all  have  sunk  to  the  bottom- 
less pit  without  noticing  it." 

Troilo  and  the  others  looked  askance  at  him  as  they 
passed.  The  honest  man  stood  confounded.  Last  of 
all  cauie  Don  Inigo,  so  very  dark,  with  his  pallid  face 
and  fierce  glance.  If  to  the  eyes  of  the  ferryman  the 
others  had  appeared  demons,  this  man  seemed  Satan 
himself;  in  his  heart  he  gave  up  all  hope  of  the  expected 
buona,  mono  ;  nevertheless,  according  to,  his  custom,  he 
moved  forward  to  ask  it,  but  his  voice  died  away  on  his 
lips.  Don  Inigo  fixed  upon  him  two  such  eyes  that  the 
frightened  boatman  retreated  two  or  three  steps,  and  as 
Don  Inigo  continued  to  advance,  without  changing  a 
muscle  of  his  face,  he  still  retreated.  Don  Inigo  thrust 
his  hand  into  his  doublet,  and  the  other,  fearing  that  he 
was  about  to  draw  his  dagger  or  poniard,  gave  himself 
np  for  lost :  but  instead,  he  drew  forth  two  bright  pis- 
toles and  held  them  out  to  him.  The  ferryman  hardly 
dared  to  trust  himself,  but  the  love  of  money  overcame 
his  fear :  he  approached  tremblingly,  and  stretched  forth 
his  open  hand.  Don  Inigo  dropped  the  pistoles  into  it 
without  speaking ;  the  other  received  them  holding  his 
breath;  then,  each  turning  away  from  the  other,  the 
ferryman  set  off  at  a  full  run,  and  did  not  consider  him- 
self safe  until  he  was  actually  in  his  boat.  When  there 
he  opened  his  hand,  suspecting  that  the  money  had 
turned  to  lead,  which  generally  happens,  according  to 
popular  superstition,  with  money  corned  in  the  infernal 


272  Isabella  Orsini. 

mint ;  but  they  still  seemed  of  gold,  as  they  had  done  at 
first :  at  any  rate,  he  put  them  carefully  away  in  his 
purse,  exclaiming: 

"  I  will  have  them  blessed,  for  if  it  was  not  the  devil 
and  all  his  imps  that  I  have  just  ferried  over,  I  am  not 
the  ferryman  of  Petroio!" 

At  last  they  have  reached  Cerreto-Guidi ;  at  last  they 
have  reached  the  foot  of  the  steep  flight  of  steps  by 
which  they  wearily  mount  to  the  country-seat  at  the  top. 

Country-seat !  Yes,  certainly,  for  thus  that  block  of 
buildings  was  then  called,  and  always  will  be  called, 
which  was  once  the  property  of  Isabella  Orsini  at 
Cerreto-Guidi.  There  nature  smiles  most  brightly,  and 
shows  herself  most  joyful,  and  notwithstanding,  man, 
placing  his  fatal  hand  upon  it,  has  succeeded  in  ren- 
dering it  the  abode  of  terror :  a  hill,  which,  if  left 
untouched,  would  have  been  a  most  beautiful  and 
charming  sight,  has  been  bound  with  brick  and  stone, 
and  converted  into  a  fortress.  Four  very  steep  stair- 
cases, two  on  each  side,  lead  to  the  top ;  the  two  first 
form  an  angle  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  and  then  part,  the 
one  to  the  right,  the  other  to  the  left ;  the  two  second 
begin  where  these  end,  and  reunite  in  an  angle  before 
the  lawn  in  front  of  the  palace.  The  walls  come  down 
perpendicularly,  built  of  brick  of  so  bright  a  tint  that 
even  now  they  appear  as  if  stained  with  blood ;  the 
bosses,  the  stairs,  and  the  copings  of  the  parapets  are  of 
Gonfalina  stone ;  the  two  first  staircases  have  forty-two 
steps,  each  of  which  is  more  than  a  foot  broad;  the 
second,  forty-three ;  the  cliff  beneath  is  excavated,  with 
tortuous,  subterranean  passages  winding  through  it. 
In  the  centre  of  the  wall  rests  an  immense  escutcheon, 


Death.  273 

also  of  stone ;  but  the  Medicean  balls,*  either  the  effect 
of  time  or  "the  work  of  men's  hands,"  have  fallen, 
as  the  family  of  the  Medici  has  fallen,  as  their  power 
has  fallen,  as  all  the  great  ones  of  the  earth  will  fall, 
into  the  sepulchre.  To  some  sooner,  to  some  later, 
but  to  all  fatally,  will  the  Autumn  come,  for  we 
are  leaves  attached  to  the  tree  of  time,  and  time  itself 
is  a  perishing  leaf  of  eternity.  But  when  men  have 
fallen  and  their  age  has  passed  away,  fame  remains, 
which,  although  it  may  grow  old  and  infirm,  never  dies ; 
and  even  if  sometimes  late,  always  reaches  posterity,  to 
recount  the  vices  and  virtues  of  those  who  have  passed 
from  earth.  Despotic  potentates  have  lived,  who  have 
torn  out  its  tongue,  and  thought  thus  to  silence  it,  but 
the  tongue  of  fame  springs  again  like  the  head  of  the 
Hydra,  and  God  does  not  permit  a  Hercules  to  rise 
against  it,  for  He  has  sent  it  upon  earth  as  a  precursor 
of  His  own  delayed  but  inevitable  justice. 

The  palace  contains  a  vast  hall  on  the  ground-floor ; 
at  the  further  end  of  it  there  is  an  arch,  at  the  right  of 
which  a  broad  stone  staircase  leads  to  the  first  story. 

Just  on  the  right  hand  of  the  entrance  is  a  suite  of 
apartments.  Enter,  cross  it,  and  you  will  find  a  corner 
room ;  one  side  looks  to  the  south,  that  opposite  to  the 
door  to  the  west.  There  is  now  but  one  window  to  the 
room;  at  the  time  of  our  history  there  were  two;  the 
second  opened  to  the  west.  There  are  two  doors ;  one 
large  and  in  full  view,  the  other  small  and  secret,  and 
formerly  covered  by  tapestry  of  green  damask.  The 
room  is  ten  feet  by  seven.  In  the  wall  is  a  large  press, 

*  The  arms  of  the  Medici  family  were  six  balls. 

12* 


274  Isabella  Orsini. 

which  is  not  readily  perceived  by  the  careless  observer : 
looking  up  to  the  entablature,  we  find  that  there  are 
sixteen  small  joists  resting  upon  one  principal  beam. 
But  it  is  not  to  count  beams  and  joists  that  I  turn  your 
attention  to  the  ceiling :  indeed  no  ;  look  carefully,  arid 
there,  under  the  principal  beam,  by  the  third  cross-beam 
from  the  western  side,  you  will  observe  a  small  round 
hole. 

Remember  this  room  and  this  hole.  Two  hundred 
and  seventy-eight  years  have  now  passed  since  that  hole 
appeared  there. 

Cerreto  (an  oak  grove)  received  its  name  from  the 
abundance  of  green  oaks  ( Cerri)  that  shaded  the  hill 
and  the  surrounding  country  for  a  long  distance,  as 
Frassineto  (an  ash  grove)  from  the  ash  trees  (Frassini}, 
and  Suvereto  (a  wood  of  cork  trees)  from  the  corks 
(Sugheri),  and  Rovereto  (a  male  oak  grove)  from  the 
male  oaks  (Roveri}.  Where  are  the  oak  trees  now? 
The  eye  of  the  passer-by  seeks  in  vain  for  a  tree  beneath 
whose  shade  to  shelter  his  burning  head  from  the  sun's 
scorching  glare ;  and  not  at  Cerreto  alone,  but  through- 
out all  Tuscany,  and  even  upon  the  lofty  peaks  of  the 
Apennine  range,  trees  are  to  the  present  day  but  sel- 
dom seen.  Oh!  sad  is  the  necessity  which  compels  us 
to  deprive  the  earth  of  so  noble  an  ornament !  The 
forests  have  disappeared,  and  with  them  the  Dryads,  the 
Hamadryads,  the  Fauns,  the  Oreads,  and  the  other 
lovely  families  with  which  the  fancy  of  the  poets  peopled 
them  ;  the  forests  have  disappeared,  and  with  them  the 
Knights  Errant,  the  tournaments,  the  chivalrous  enter- 
prises, the  fairies,  the  dwarfs,  and  the  Queens  of  Beauty, 
with  whom  the  imaginations  of  the  romancers  gladdened 


Death.  275 

their  sylvan  haunts.  The  nymphs  of  the  woods  fol- 
lowed mourning  to  see  the  beloved  trees,  and  recom- 
mended them  to  the  care  of  the  ocean  goddesses,  as  if 
they  had  been  best  beloved  children ;  and  the  ocean 
goddesses  cared  for  them,  fashioned  them  into  ships, 
adorned  them  with  sails  as  purely  white  as  the  wings  of 
the  swan,  gave  them  the  swiftness  of  the  albatross,  and 
the  shining  beauty  of  the  halcyon  ;  then  with  their  hands 
and  shining  shoulders  they  pushed  the  stern,  and  the 
favoring  winds,  vieing  with  the  nymphs,  swelled  the  sails, 
and  took  pleasure  in  spreading  to  the  azure  sky  the 
banner  of  our  land. 

The  ship,  traversing  untried  seas,  carried  arts,  cus- 
toms, and  knowledge,  to  civilize  unknown  and  savage 
nations,  and  the  banner  of  our  land  was  hailed  even  on 
the  remotest  shores  as  a  token  of  safety.  Alas !  This 
is  a  desire  which,  however  earnest,  can  never  more  be 
fulfilled.  The  woods  of  our  country  are  shorn  of  their 
leaves,  as  Grecian  maidens  formerly  sacrificed  their 
tresses  at  the  tombs  of  their  dear  ones.  Our  trees  have 
been  converted  into  ships,  but  not  for  us ;  the  wriuds 
have  unfolded  the  banner,  but  it  was  not  ours ;  they 
have  joined  in  battle,  but  it  was  not  for  the  fates  of  our 
country  ;  they  have  sailed  laden  with  merchandise,  but 
not  gathered  from  our  fields,  nor  manufactured  by  our 
hands ;  they  have  indeed  been  guided  by  Italian  men 
over  unknown  seas,  and  through  terrible  storms  and 
fearful  perils,  but  others  have  received  the  fruits  of  these 
enterprises,  and  our  country  has  won  merely  barren  re- 
nown. Barbarous  nations  have  bought  our  forests, 
while  the  iron  dared  not  touch  their  oaks,  beneath  which 
the  Druids  celebrated  their  mysterious  rites.  Oh! 


276  Isabella  Orsini. 

miserable  nation,  who  have  sold  everything,  and  had  it 
been  possible  would  have  sold  even  your  sun  and  sky, 
why,  if  you  yourselves  had  no  thrill  of  daring  or  of 
glory,  why  did  you  disinherit  your  posterity  ?  Why, 
not  contented  with  your  own  baseness,  did  you  prepare 
for  your  sons  an  inheritance  of  shame  and  tears  ?  What 
judgment  awaits  you  beyond  the  grave,  since  your 
children  will  remember  their  fathers  only  by  the  ill 
which  they  have  received  from  them  ? 

But  Cerreto  was  at  that  time  shaded  with  an  abun- 
dance of  oaks,  elms,  holm-oaks,  and  trees  of  all  kinds ; 
while  pheasants,  heath-cocks,  and  infinite  varieties  of 
birds  flew  from  bough  to  bough,  and  roebucks,  deer, 
stags,  hares,  and  wild-boars  bounded  through  the  under- 
brush ;  so  that  the  place  was  remarkably  well  adapted 
for  the  chase,  the  supreme  delight  in  the  lives  of 
Princes. 

When  IsabeUa,  leaning  on  her  husband's  arm,  began 
to  ascend  the  stairs,  she  stumbled  on  the  first  step,  so  as 
to  cause  herself  severe  pain ;  smiling  sadly,  she  turned 
to  the  Duke  and  said : 

"  This  is  a  bad  omen :  a  Roman  would  have  turned 
back."* 

The  Duke,  not  being  able  to  think  of  a  good  answer, 
kept  silence,  trying  in  his  turn  to  laugh. 

As  soon  as  they  reached  the  palace,  every  one  repaired 
to  his  own  apartments  ;  the  Duke  went  to  those  which 
contained  the  room  already  so  minutely  described,  to 
perform  his  toilet. 

*  As  Lamoignon  Malesherbes,  the  aged  defender  of  Louis  XVI.,  was 
being  dragged  to  the  scaffold,  he  struck  his  foot  against  a  step  in  the 
prison,  and  remarked:  "A  Roman  would  have  turned  back." 


Death.  277 

When  they  had  bathed  in  perfumed  water,  changed 
their  clothes,  and  dressed  their  hair,  they  all  met  again 
on  the  piazza  in  front  of  the  palace. 

The  sun,  shorn  of  his  rays,  resembled  a  blood-shot 
eye,  and  the  whole  sky  near  him  seemed  like  a  lake  of 
blood.  An  immense  extent  of  country  lay  stretched  out 
before  the  eyes  of  our  personages,  for  from  that  height 
could  be  seen  the  greater  part  of  the  territories  of  Flo- 
rence, Pistoia,  Volterra,  Pisa,  Colle,  Samminiato,  and 
even  Leghorn.  Groups  of  houses  were  scattered  about 
on  the  hills,  like  flocks  of  goats  in  their  pastures ;  from 
the  little  cottages  rose  straight  columns  of  smoke,  and 
the  sound  of  melancholy  songs  was  heard  from  the 
plains,  to  which  other  voices  in  the  distance  replied  in 
strains  equally  mournful.  From  a  black  cloud  darted, 
from  time  to  time,  a  tongue  of  flame  like  the  sword  of 
the  avenging  Archangel  hidden  behind  it.  The  sun 
meantime  is  gradually  sinking — now  it  is  merely  a 
streak  of  light — now  it  is  gone !  Isabella,  moved  by  an 
irresistible  impulse,  stretched  forth  her  arms  with  the 
despairing  sorrow  with  which  we  see  our  dearest  trea- 
sures hidden  from  our  sight  beneath  the  earth,  and 
exclaimed : 

"Farewell,  O  sun,  farewell!"  and  covered  her  face 
with  her  hands. 

"Farewell  until  to-morrow,"  said  the  Duke,  "and 
may  you  rise  with  a  brighter  face  than  that  with  which 
you  leave  us.  Beautiful  plains,  pleasant  woods,  and  de- 
lightful ease,  at  last  I  return  to  enjoy  you,  nor  will  I 
again  leave  you  hastily.  I  am  weary  of  pursuing  glory, 
which  is  never  overtaken ;  or  if  overtaken,  when  man 
thinks  to  clasp  a  supreme  good,  his  arms  fall  empty  on 


278  Isabella  Orsini. 

his  bosom.  I  wish  to  find  my  pleasure  in  domestic  joys, 
the  only  true  ones  in  the  world.  I  reproach  myself,  and 
I  ask  your  pardon,  Isabella,  and  bind  myself  by  an  oath 
never  to  leave  you  again.  I  thank  you,  that  on  return- 
ing home,  I  have  not  been  received  as  a  stranger ;  I 
owe  it  to  the  excellent  goodness  of  your  disposition, 
that  coming  back,  after  so  many  years  of  absence,  I  can 
believe  that  I  departed  only  yesterday.  My  heart  is 
sick ;  it  is  for  you  to  cure  it  entirely  of  the  fever  of  am- 
bition, which  has  wrung  it  so  sorely." 

Isabella  looked  at  him,  and  smiled  mournfully  with- 
out speaking ;  but  Troilo,  who  thought  him  sincere,  re- 
plied consolingly : 

"  Now  how  can  you  say  that  you  have  spent  your 
days  in  vain  ?  In  a  hundred  battles  you  have  gathered 
laurels  enough  to  crown  two  Caesars ;  not  to  mention 
others,  at  Lepanto  alone  you  have,  by  your  bravery 
and  prowess,  acquired  a  name  that  history  will  record 
with  pride  in  her  eternal  pages.  Ah !  be  good  enough 
to  satisfy  my  long  desire  ;  narrate  to  me  the  events  of 
this  '  battle  of  the  giants.' " 

"  At  another  tune,  Troilo,  at  another  time ;  but,  I 
repeat  it,  all  is  vanity.  Look  and  see  what  good  has  aris- 
en from  so  many  deaths,  from  so  much  misery,  from  so 
many  wounds !  The  Christians,  envious  of  each  other, 
did  not  follow  up  their  victory ;  the  Turks  rose  again, 
more  troublesome  than  ever  ;  and  Don  John,  unaccept- 
able conqueror,  received  as  the  recompense  of  his  won- 
derful valor,  nothing  but  oblivion,  and  happy  he  if  no- 
thing worse  happen  to  him !  That  great  soldier  heart, 
which  expands  in  the  dangers  of  the  conflict,  will  quick- 
ly cease  to  beat  if  condemned  to  fret  itself  away  at 


Death.  279 

Court,*  for  glory  was  his  breath,  danger  his  blood,  war 
his  very  life.  The  fate  of  this  illustrious  but  unfortu- 
nate man,  teaches  me  to  be  wise,  and  furl  the  sails  worn 
by  the  long  voyage.  True,  it  is  late,  but  '  better  late 
than  never;' — the  sun  of  my  life  is  declining — God 
grant  that  its  setting  at  least  may  be  peaceful !" 


The  servants  had  prepared  two  tables  in  the  lower 
hah1,  and  they  were  overloaded  with  the  gifts  of  Ceres 
and  Bacchus ;  many  chandeliers  shone  with  brilliant 
light,  which  was  reflected  in  infinite  rays  from  the 
sparkling  silver  plate,  white  porcelain  vases,  and  large 
mirrors.  All  the  doors  which  looked  upon  the  piazza 
had  been  opened,  and  also  the  opposite  ones  opening 
into  the  gardens ;  and  yet  the  air  was  so  still  that  not 
even  a  light  flickered,  and  the  folds  of  the  window  cur- 
tains and  awnings  were  as  immovable  as  if  made  of  mar- 
ble or  bronze.  Through  so  many  openings  there  did 
not  penetrate  a  single  refreshing  breath  of  air. 

They  sat  at  the  banquet.  The  Duke  strove  his  best 
to  make  the  guests  give  themselves  up  to  joy  and  mer- 
riment ;  he  had  need  of  excitement ;  he  endeavored  to 
stupefy  himself;  he  meant  to  drown  his  internal  passion 
in  the  madness  of  false  hilarity :  in  short,  he  sought 
mainly  two  things,  courage  to  persist,  and  power  to  dis- 
simulate. He  succeeded  finally ;  for  the  guests,  having 
no  motive  to  doubt  the  sincerity  of  the  Duke's  gaiety, 
abandoned  themselves  to  a  free  and  open  demonstration 

*  It  was  not  long  before  they  received  notice  of  the  death  of  Don 
John  of  Austria,  caused  by  fever  and  the  deep  vexation  of  excessive 
care. 


280  Isabella  Orsini. 

of  enjoyment,  and  thus  was  tempered  the  artificial  and 
icy  happiness  which  he  pretended.  Troilo,  who,  as  all 
ignorant  men  are  wont,  presumed  a  great  deal  on  him- 
self, thought  there  was  no  danger ;  yet  he  was  not 
entirely  at  his  ease,  and,  at  any  rate,  he  thought  best  to 
drown  all  sadness  in  wine.  The  conversation  began  to 
be  more  excited  and  lively ;  witty  sayings  flew  from 
mouth  to  mouth.  The  banquet  was  at  its  climax  ;  the 
valets  and  pages  hastened  around,  carrying  wines  of  all 
kinds  and  warm  viands ;  the  noise  which  arises  from 
gay  voices  speaking  all  together,  a  sure  indication  of  a 
merry  feast,  filled  the  whole  room,  and  from  time  to 
time  was  broken  by  loud  laughter. 

But  Isabella  participated  in  this  hilarity  as  much  as 
was  necessary  not  to  show  the  perturbation  which  agi- 
tated her;  and  it  did  not  escape  her  notice  that  the  Duke, 
whilst  he  urged  the  others  and  herself  to  drink  often, 
never  did  himself,  or,  hardly  touching  the  glass  to  his 
lips,  set  it  down  again.  Her  eyes  often  sought  those  of 
the  Duke,  but  he  studiously  avoided  hers,  or  if  by  chance 
they  met  he  turned  them  away  quickly.  Not  that  she 
was  sorry  at  this,  prepared  as  she  was  for  everything, 
but,  through  an  innate  vanity  in  our  nature,  she  wished  to 
show  him  that  she  might  be  murdered,  but  not  deceived. 

And  since  there  never  are  motives  wanting  among 
men  either  to  do  an  injury  or  to  drink,  so  it  is  useless  to 
relate  in  how  many  ways,  and  for  how  many  reasons,  they 
all  drank. 

Troilo,  partly  to  correspond  to  the  general  exultation, 
partly  to  acquire  more  and  more  the  good  will  of  his 
cousin,  rose  suddenly,  and  holding  in  his  hand  a  full 
goblet,  toasted  the  Duke  thus : 


Death.  281 

"The  health  of  the  valorous  knight  of  Christ,  the 
victorious  warrior  of  Lepanto." 

There  is  nothing  in  the  world  so  insupportable  as  praise 
in  the  mouth  of  an  enemy ;  no  insult  can  offend  as  much 
as  this  eulogium ;  and  it  seemed  excessively  insulting  to 
the  Duke,  for  he  knew  too  well  that  it  was  derived  from 
stupidity,  but  mingled  with  malice ;  and  it  is  also  no  lit- 
tle offence  to  human  vanity  to  allow  the  fool  to  suppose 
that  he  has  been  able  to  deceive  us.  Yet  he  dissimu- 
lated ;  for  when  he  undertook  a  task,  although  weak  by 
nature,  he  was  capable  by  art  of  dissimulating  as  well 
as  the  most  dexterous. 

At  the  toast  of  Troilo  all  replied  applauding,  and, 
although  the  power  of  the  wine  had  a  great  deal  to  do 
with  these  vociferous  approvals,  yet  they  poured  so  sin- 
cerely from  their  hearts,  that  the  warrior  felt  proud  of 
them,  and  they  tempered  the  bitterness  caused  by  the 
thought  of  the  source  from  whence  the  toast  came,  and 
the  reason  of  it. 

The  Duke  rose  also,  and  taking  a  glass,  replied  in  an 
attitude  of  acknowledgment : 

"It  is  too  much  for  me!  But  human  tongue  can 
never  extol  enough  the  illustrious  souls  of  those  who 
perished  fighting  on  that  memorable  day." 

"  My  Lord  Duke,  pray  do  not  deny  to  us  the  honor 
and  pleasure  of  hearing  you  relate  the  events  of  that 
battle :  we  beg  you,  by  the  love  you  bear  to  your  lady." 

"  No ;  what  is  the  use  ?  You  have  all  read  it  in  the 
histories  of  the  times." 

And  all  the  guests  insisted,  speaking  at  once : 

"  Yes,  but  in  generalities ; — without  details  of  facts 
and  incidents.  And  then,  to  read  a  relation  of  a  battle 


282  Isabella  Orsini. 

is  a  very  different  thing  from  hearing  it  from  one  who 
fought  in  it,  shed  his  blood,  and  conquered.  Please  nar- 
rate it  to  us." 

And  Titta,  who  had  accompanied  the  Duke,  and  had 
fought  at  his  side  and  saved  his  life,  desired  that  his 
prowess  might  be  shown  also  as  well  as  his  master's,  so 
that  he  insisted  more  than  the  others  that  the  Duke,  who 
was  a  good  speaker,  should  relate  the  events  and  dan- 
gers of  that  famous  battle.  Indeed  the  refusal  of  the 
Duke,  to  tell  the  truth,  was  not  sincere ;  not  that  he  was 
a  miles  gloriosus,  but  every  soldier  loves  to  record  the 
battles  he  fought,  the  wounds  received,  and  to  show 
himself  a  generous  bestower  of  praise  on  the  enemy, 
whether  conquerors  or  conquered ; — if  conquerors,  to 
excuse  the  defeat ; — if  conquered,  to  render  his  triumph 
more  glorious. 

Titta  then,  in  a  certain  manner  which  was  neither  a 
request  nor  a  command,  but  participated  of  both,  added : 

"  May  it  please  your  Excellency,  although  modesty 
may  deter  you  from  narrating  the  battle,  you  must  not 
deprive  me  of  my  share  of  praises ;  for  I  also  fought 
by  your  side,  and  as  fortune,  rather  than  my  own  bravery, 
gave  me  the  chance  of  saving  the  life  of  a  valorous  war- 
rior, I  cannot  renounce  the  reward  accruing  from  this 
act,  although  an  accidental  one." 

"  You  are  right,  and  I  could  not  honestly  be  silent, 
when  silence  might  be  imputed  to  me  as  ingratitude. 
Please  then  to  listen ;  I  will  speak  briefly  and  plainly,  as 
becomes  a  soldier.  And  you,  Isabella,  remember  all  that 
I  am  about  to  say,  and  make  it  a  noble  theme  for  your 
muse  .  .  .  since  now  nothing  is  left  to  the  warrior  for 
reward  but  the  smile  of  beauty,  and  the  honor  of  a  poem." 


Death.  283 

"  Is  not  that  enough  ?"  asked  Isabella. 

"  It  is  even  too  much. — All  Christendom  was  in  arms : 
knights  of  high  lineage,  plebeians,  adventurers  assembled 
from  all  sides  to  fight  the  enemies  of  Christ,  in  order  to 
obtain  remission  for  their  sins,  and  the  great  indulgences 
promised  by  Pope  Pius  V.  But  although  the  desire  of 
the  warriors  was  great  to  meet  the  enemy  in  mortal  com- 
bat, yet  the  secret  intentions  of  the  allied  Princes  were 
not  in  accordance  with  them.  The  Venetians  craved  the 
battle,  the  Pope  more  than  they ;  but  Philip  II.  of  Spain 
was  unwilling  to  risk  an  enterprise  on  which  depended 
all  the  forces  of  his  kingdom,  and  where  victory  would 
have  been  rather  to  the  advantage  of  his  allies  than  to 
himself;  nor  in  his  crafty  and  cunning  mind  did  he  desire 
the  Italians  to  acquire  fame ;  fearing  lest  they  might  be 
induced,  as  it  is  customary  with  human  natures,  to  feel 
the  want  of  acquiring  a  greater  one.*  The  great  Com- 
endador  of  Castille  Requesens  had  been  sent  to  Don 
John  of  Austria  as  a  check,  and  he  never  ceased  whisper- 
ing in  his  ears,  to  curb  his  fiery  spirit ;  that  his  supreme 
glory  and  religion  ought  to  be  the  welfare  and  advance- 
ment of  the  king  his  brother  ;  so  that  the  great  soul  of 
this  magnanimous  man  sadly  wavered  with  painful  un- 
certainty. But  every  day  there  arrived  new  forces 
ready  to  fight,  seeking  for  no  other  reward  or  glory 
than  that  of  shedding  their  own  blood  for  the  Faith. 
Don  John  would  sigh  from  the  depth  of  his  heart,  and 
with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  ground  tremble  with  rage, 
or  grow  pale  and  disheartened.  The  advices  of  Gabrio 


*  i.  e.  The  liberation  of  Lombardy  and  the  kingdom  of  Naples  from 
the  Spanish  yoke. 


284  Isabella  Orsini. 

Serbelloni,  general  of  artillery,  of  Ascanio  della  Cornia, 
grand-master  of  the  field,  and  of  Sforza,  Count  of  San- 
tafiore,  general  of  the  Italians  for  king  Philip,  were  of 
no  little  help  to  add  spurs  to  his  valorous  soul.  Yet,  it 
seemed  that  the  battle  would  not  take  place,  for  fortune 
hindered  the  enterprise  with  all  her  might ;  and  indeed 
a  vague  report  was  spread,  that,  on  account  of  the  late- 
ness of  the  season,  and  the  stormy  weather,  this  year 
they  would  only  attempt  to  gain  possession  of  Castel- 
nuovo,  or  Nelona,  or  Durazzo,  or  Santa  Maura.  Add  to 
this,  that  Don  John,  being  greatly  exasperated  against  the 
Venetians,  was  on  the  point  of  losing  the  occasion 
through  which  his  name  will  descend  immortal  even  to 
remote  posterity.  The  Venetian  galleys  were  somewhat 
ill  supplied  with  soldiers,  and  accordingly  Don  John 
thought  it  best  to  replenish  them  with  his  Italian  and 
Spanish  troops ;  it  was  a  remedy  worse  than  the  disease, 
since  a  day  did  not  pass  without  tumults,  quarrels,  and 
bloody  fights  arising.  Captain  Muzio  da  Cortona,  sta- 
tioned on  the  galley  of  Andrea  Calergi,  a  nobleman  of 
Crete,  having  a  quarrel  with  some  Venetians,  drew  his 
sword,  and  wounded  several  of  them ;  a  melee  ensued, 
they  called  to  arms,  and  all  the  Venetians  that  happened 
to  be  around  assailed  and  abused  him  badly ;  but  Veniero, 
the  Venetian  general,  as  if  this  had  not  been  enough, 
had  him  arrested,  and  hung  without  mercy.  Don 
John,  considering  his  authority  offended,  was  resolved 
to  take  a  solemn  revenge  against  the  Venetians,  refusing 
to  listen  to  all  the  arguments  with  which  Marcantonio 
Colonna,  and  the  Venetian  Admiral  Barbarigo,  tried  to 
pacify  him. — But  God,  who  watched  over  our  safety, 
caused  the  arrival  of  the  unhappy  news  of  the  loss  of 


Death.  285 

Famagosta;  and  that  Marcantonio  Bragadino  and  Astorre 
Baglioni,  after  having  defended  it  valorously  for  ten 
months,  were  forced  through  want  of  ammunition,  and 
the  impatience  of  the  citizens,  to  surrender  it  with 
honorable  conditions.  But  the  barbarian  conqueror, 
violating  his  oath,  ordered  Bragadino's  ears  to  be  cut  off, 
and  then,  having  dragged  him  ignominiously  to  the 
market-place,  after  unheard  of  barbarities  had  him 
skinned  alive ;  nor  being  yet  satisfied  with  this,  he  caused 
the  skin  to  be  filled  with  straw,  and  hung  to  the  mast  of 
a  galley,  exhibiting  through  Soria  and  the  other  Turkish 
countries  this  infamous  trophy. — It  was  on  this  occasion 
that  Don  John,  shutting  his  eyes,  and  becoming  pale  as 
death,  seemed  like  a  man  who  had  received  a  powerful 
blow  upon  the  head ;  and  he  remained  thus  for  a  little 
while ;  then  with  regal  dignity  he  turned  appeased  to 
Yeniero,  and  extending  his  hand  to  him  said :  '  Peace ! 
We  have  no  enemies  but  the  Turks.' — His  aspect,  the 
words,  and  the  manner  in  which  they  were  proffered, 
made  all  who  stood  around  him  shudder :  imagine  what 
effect  they  would  have  had  upon  the  enemies !  Marcan- 
tonio  Colonna,  who  stood  by  him,  related  to  me  that  in 
the  fierce  sparkling  of  the  eyes  of  this  magnanimous 
Prince  he  seemed  to  read  the  death  sentence  of  twenty 
thousand  infidels.  Veniero  pressed  the  invincible  hand, 
kissed  it,  and  could  not  help  exclaiming  with  sobs: 
*  Unfortunate  Bragadino  !  Unhappy  blood  !'  Both 
Spaniards,  Germans,  and  Italians,  laying  aside  all  ani- 
mosity, threw  their  arms  weeping  around  each  other's 
necks,  kissed  each  other's  cheeks,  and  cried : — '  Peace !' — 
Then  with  a  sudden  change  they  thrust  their  hands  in 
their  hair,  stamped  the  pavement  with  their  feet,  and 


286  Isabella  Orsini. 

with  loud  voices  cried  : — '  To  arms,  to  arms  !' — Be  it 
so  ! — replied  Don  John,  unsheathing  his  sword,  which, 
glittering  in  the  rays  of  the  Sun,  seemed  to  send  forth 
sparks  of  divine  fire  ;  and  ordered  to  be  unfolded  upon 
his  galley  the  banner  of  the  League  sent  by  the  Pope, 
whereon  was  painted  the  Crucifix,  and  beneath  it  the 
escutcheons  of  the  Allies,  in  the  middle  that  of  the 
Pope,  on  the  right  that  of  the  King  of  Spam,  and  on  the 
left  that  of  the  Venetians.  The  wind,  and  it  was  no 
small  omen  of  victory,  unfolded  through  the  air  the 
glorious  banner,  so  that  it  seemed  as  if  invisible  hands 
held  it  spread  by  the  four 'corners ;  and  Don  John,  fixing 
his  eyes  upon  it  with  pious  enthusiasm,  exclaimed : — In 
hoc  signo  vinces  ! — In  hoc  signo  vinces !  exclaimed 
those  near  him,  and  these  sacred  words  spread  like  light- 
ning, and  were  in  a  moment  repeated  from  the  most 
distant  ships.  The  great  Comendador,  who  had  had  a 
secret  order  from  the  king  to  hinder  the  enterprise, 
whether  he  thought  it  too  dangerous  to  oppose  it,  or 
that  he  was  carried  along  by  the  imiversal  consent, 
changing  his  conduct  and  bearing,  showed  more  enthu- 
siasm than  the  others,  and  murmured  often : — They  may 
order  us  from  Madrid  to  remain  quiet,  but  before  the 
enemy  one  cannot  obey  such  mandates  ! — 

"Another  circumstance  in  which  we  saw  the  hand  of 
God  openly  manifested  was  this,  that  the  enemy  being 
distant,  and  able  to  avoid  a  battle — and  in  fact  some  of 
their  captains  had  advised  it — there  suddenly  arrived  some 
spies  who  notified  them  that  the  greater  part  of  the 
Christian  fleet  had  remained  behind.  This  information 
was  partly  true,  but  had  been  a  thousand  fold  exagge- 
rated by  report ;  for  the  only  truth  was,  that  the  twenty-six 


Death.  287 

galleys  commanded  by  Don  Caesar  Davalo  of  Arragon, 
who  was  then  in  great  grief  mourning  the  death  of  his 
brother  the  Marquis  of  Pescara,  and  who  together  with 
Don  John  had  been  appointed  as  commander-iii-chief  of 
the  whole  enterprise,  had  set  sail  late,  and  did  not  arrive 
in  time.  Upon  these  ships  were  the  German  infantry 
commanded  by  the  Counts  Alberigo  Lodrone,  and 
Yinciguerra  d'Arco,  so  that,  the  battle  having  been  won 
principally  by  the  efforts  of  the  Italians,  we  lost  no  glory 
on  their  account.  Our  spies  also  led  us  into  the  same 
error,  for  they,  badly  informed,  reported  to  us  that  in  the 
Turkish  fleet  Aluch  Ali,  Dey  of  Algiers,  with  his  eighty 
galleys  was  wanting.  Thus  the  desire  of  fighting  on 
both  sides  was  very  great,  each  thinking  to  have  the 
advantage  over  the  other.  Ali  Pasha,  Grand  Admiral 
of  the  sea,  finding  the  wind  in  his  favor,  without  any 
longer  delay  moved  all  his  fleet  with  much  haste,  but 
little  order,  from  the  Gulf  of  Lepanto.  The  knight 
(uldandrada,  sent  out  to  reconnoitre,  returned  the  sixth 
of  October,  which  was  Saturday,  in  the  dead  of  night,  to 
notify  us  of  the  approach  of  the  enemy :  we  sailed  all 
night,  and  the  next  morning  at  dawn  the  seventh  of 
October,  the  day  of  the  Virgin  St.  Giustina,  we  came 
abreast  of  the  Curzolares  Islands,  anciently  called 
Echinades,  about  thirty-five  miles  distant  from  Lepanto. 
At  this  moment  Giovanni  Andrea  Doria  returned,  notify- 
ing us  to  prepare  for  battle,  for  the  Turkish  fleet,  favored 
by  the  wind,  was  coming  upon  us.  Then  Don  John  with 
great  calmness  ordered  the  fleet  to  be  formed  in  battle 
array,  which  was  this :  the  galleys  were  divided  into  a 
centre,  two  wings,  an  advanced  guard,  and  a  rear  guard, 
so  that  it  represented  the  form  of  an  eagle. — Giovanni 


288  Isabella  Orsini. 

Andrea  Doria  commanded  the  right  wing  with  fifty-three 
galleys,  and  hoisted  a  green  flag  on  the  main-mast  of  his 
ship.  Agostino  Barbarigo  led  the  left  wing  with  as  many 
galleys,  hoisting  a  yellow  flag.  Don  Alvaro  di  Baxan, 
Marquis  of  Santacroce,  was  appointed  to  the  command  of 
the  rear-guard  with  thirty  galleys,  and  displayed  a  white 
flag  on  his  ship,  ready  to  come  to  assistance  wherever  the 
need  required.  Don  John  of  Cardona,  also  carrying  a 
white  flag,  led  the  advanced-guard  with  eight  galleys. 
The  centre,  or  as  they  call  it,  the  battle,  consisting  of 
sixty-one  galleys,  was  under  the  command  of  Don  John, 
with  a  blue  flag  at  the  mast-head ;  and  as  they  expected 
that  the  greatest  efforts  of  the  enemy  would  be  turned 
in  this  direction,  they  placed  in  defence  of  the  Heal  galley, 
on  the  right  the  Capitana*  of  the  Pope  with  General 
Marcantonio  Colonna,  Romagasso,  and  other  Knights ;  on 
the  left  the  Venetian  Capitana,  with  General  Sebastiano 
Veniero,  after  which  was  the  Capitana  of  Genoa  with 
Alessandro  Farnese,  Prince  of  Parma,  and  on  the  other 
side  the  Capitana  of  Savoy  with  Francesco  Maria  della 
Rovere,  Duke  of  Urbino :  the  sides  of  this  battle  were 
closed  on  the  right  by  the  Capitana  of  Malta,  on  the  left 
by  the  Capitana  Lomellina,  where  I  was; — aside  the 
stern  of  the  Heal  stood  the  Capitana  and  Padrona  of 
Spain  with  the  great  Comendador  Requesens.  It  was 
a  very  wise  plan,  as  the  effect  showed,  that  of  towing  the 
six  Venetian  galeazzas,  each  armed  with  four  hundred 
chosen  arquebusiers,  sixty  brass  cannons,  bombs  and 
rockets  of  all  kinds,  about  half  a  mile  ahead  of  the  fleet; 
two  of  them  commanded  by  Andrea  Pesaro  and  Pietro 

*  Flagship. 


Death.  289 

Pisani  in  front  of  the  right  wing ;  the  other  two  of 
Agostino  and  Antonio  Bragadino,  before  the  left ;  and  the 
last  two  of  Giacomo  Guoro  and  Francesco  Duodo  in  front 
of  the  battle. — Alas !  why  have  I  not  a  poetic  genius, 
and  why  does  not  all  Christendom  listen,  that  I  may  extol 
with  song,  which  makes  even  mortals  eternal,  those 
magnanimous  men  who  came  voluntarily  to  take  a  part 
in  this  memorable  day  ?  I  would  pray  the  Mother  of  God 
to  recall  to  my  memory  the  names  of  all  the  brave  who 
conquered  living,  and  the  martyrs  who  conquered  dying, 
and  particularly  the  last,  for  although  I  believe  that  they 
are  rejoicing  now  in  the  celestial  abodes,  yet  the  sound 
of  deserved  praise  arises  more  welcome  than  incense, 
even  to  the  blessed  ones  hi  heaven.  But  let  us  not  pluck 
the  laurel ;  for  perhaps  the  poet  will  be  born  who  with 
better  voice  will  be  able  to  dispense  the  deserved  reward 
to  these  valorous  men :  it  behoves  us  at  least  to  hope  so ! 
— From  the  opposite  side,  borne  by  a  north-east  wind 
which  blew  favorably  to  it,  the  enemy's  fleet  advanced, 
occupying  a  larger  space  of  water,  hastily  and  in  disorder, 
as  if  to  exterminate  us,  and  fearing  to  lose  the  opportunity 
of  a  certain  victory.  It  was  in  the  form  of  a  crescent,  and 
consisted  of  three  hundred  or  more  ships.  Ali  Pasha, 
Grand  Admiral,  and  Pertau,  general  of  the  troops, 
commanded  the  battle :  Siroco,  Governor  of  Alexandria, 
and  Mehemet  Bey,  Governor  of  Xegropont,  led  the  right 
wing ;  Uluch  Ali,  dey  of  Algiers,  the  left.  The  Turkish 
Heal  was  no  less  strongly  defended  than  ours,  having  at 
its  sides  six  of  the  principal  galleys,  three  on  one  side,  and 
three  on  the  other,  upon  which  on  the  right  were  Pertau, 
Mamud  Rais,  captain  of  the  janissaries,  Lader  Bey, 
governor  of  Metelin,  and  on  the  left  Mustapha,  treasurer, 

13 


290  Isabella  Orsini. 

Caracoza,  governor  of  Velona,  and  Carajali,  captain  of 
the  Corsairs.  Don  John,  as  soon  as  he  saw  his  fleet  in 
order,  went  in  a  light  barge  flying  from  galley  to  galley, 
encouraging  the  men  with  very  short  but  vigorous  words 
to  fight  bravely,  for  the  time,  the  place,  and  his  nature 
did  not  allow  of  a  long  speech.  It  is  said  that  when  he 
came  under  the  Capitana  of  Venice,  in  seeing  Sebastiano 
Veniero,  an  old  man  of  three  score  years  and  ten,  all 
armed  with  a  sparkling  and  splendid  armor,  with  his 
head  uncovered  showing  his  white  locks,  his  face  burning 
with  martial  fire  inciting  his  men  to  act  valorously, 
admiring  the  bravery  of  the  man,  he  cried  to  him : — 
Father !  Bless  us  all.  .  . — And  Veniero,  raising  his  eyes 
to  heaven,  as  if  begging  from  on  high  the  power  of 
blessing,  stretched  his  arm,  and  making  the  sign  of  the 
Cross  exclaimed : — Be  all  blessed  in  the  name  of  the 
Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost. — From  all  the 
galleys  there  then  issued  forth  a  shout  foreboding  ap- 
proaching slaughter." 

"  I  remember,"  interrupted  Titta,  "  that  when  he 
arrived  under  our  Lomellina,  he  kissed  his  hand  to  us, 
and  cried: — Brave  men,  I  say  nothing  to  you! — and 
disappeared." 

"  The  Capuchin  friars  and  the  Jesuits  with  crucifixes 
in  their  hands,  fearless  of  the  imminent  danger,  ran  up 
and  down  the  galleys,  cheering  all  spirits,  granting  to 
all  the  remission  of  their  sins,  innumerable  indulgences, 
and  a  certain  hope  of  conquering,  and  immense  booty. 

"When  Don  John  returned  on  board  his  galley,  he 
noticed  at  a  little  distance  a  small  vessel  full  of  powerful 
rowers  as  if  waiting:  he  inquired  about  it  of  the  captain, 
who  replied: — he  had  it  prepared  for  any  emergency 


Death.  291 

that  might  happen,  in  order  that  he  could  retreat ; — and 
Don  John  replied  fiercely : — Sink  it  to  the  bottom ;  for 
I  s\vear  to  God  that  I  had  rather  die  fighting  for  Christ, 
than  escape  with  shame. — And  to  the  Comendador,  who 
by  duty  of  his  ofiice  warned  him  to  think  better  before 
adventuring  on  a  decisive  battle,  he  replied : — Now 
the  time  for  counsel  is  past;  it  is  the  tune  for  com- 
bat, 

"  The  Turkish  Heal  begins  to  fire :  the  sound  of  the 
artillery  is  spread ;  the  signal  is  given,  our  Heal  reph'es ; 
the  battle  is  engaged.  It  was  the  design  of  the  enemy 
to  push  forward  with  the  wind  in  their  favor  in  the  shape 
of  a  crescent,  surround  oxir  wings,  pass  behind,  and  en- 
close us  in  a  circle  of  death.  They  took  little  notice  of 
the  six  galeazzas,  and  those  valorous  Venetians  did  not 
stir  until  the  enemy  was  within  half  an  arquebuse-shot ; 
then,  suddenly,  and  at  the  same  moment,  they  fired  three 
hundred  and  sixty  cannons,  and  two  thousand  four  hun- 
dred arquebuses!  The  terrible  noise  astounded  even 
those  who  had  caused  it ;  the  sea  shook  as  if  by  a  storm, 
and  the  galleys,  hurled  by  a  most  violent  shock,  began  to 
roll  in  disorder ;  but  our  men  very  soon  regained  their 
spirits  on  discovering  the  great  damage  done  to  the 
enemy,  and  loading  their  arquebuses  with  wonderful 
readiness  continued  to  fire  desperately  upon  them.  And 
I  desire  you  to  know  that  on  this  occasion  the  arquebuse 
with  a  lock  was  of  great  service  to  us,  for  being  small, 
and  easy  to  manage,  it  enabled  our  men  to  fire  three 
times  before  the  enemy  could  fire  once  with  their  heavy 
ones:  and  this  was  the  first  moment  of  our  victory. 
Skill  conquered  fury,  and  the  Moslems,  unaccustomed  to 
such  encounter,  had  to  keep  their  distance  all  torn  and 


292  Isabella  Orsini. 

bloody,  change  the  order  of  battle,  and  form  themselves 
into  three  divisions  like  us. 

"  Although  the  valor  of  our  men  was  very  great,  yet 
the  Lord  wished  to  show  with  a  more  visible  sign  that 
he  was  fighting  for  us,  for  just  then  happened  a  memo- 
rable changing  of  the  wind ;  the  north-east,  which  had 
so  far  been  favorable  to  the  Turks,  ceased,  and  there 
arose  a  south-west  propitious  to  the  Christians,  carrying 
the  smoke  against  them,  and  preventing  them  from 
seeing.  Siroco,  in  the  mean  while,  not  at  all  daunted, 
ordered  his  galleys  to  avoid  the  galeazzas,  and,  grazing 
the  shore  where  the  river  Acheloo  falls  into  the  sea,  to 
rush  between  the  land  and  the  galleys  of  Barbarigo, 
and  strive  to  assail  him  in  the  rear.  Barbarigo,  how- 
ever, not  a  less  skilful  captain,  ordered  his  extreme 
galleys  to  approach  the  land,  and  describe  with  the 
others  a  diagonal  line,  forming  an  acute  angle  of  which 
one  side  was  formed  by  the  land,  the  other  by  his  galleys ; 
and  taking  Siroco  in  the  flank,  with  the  aid  of  the  pro- 
pitious wind  pushed  him  towards  the  island.  The  fight 
was  carried  on  desperately  on  both  sides  ;  but  the  Turk- 
ish galleys  continually  losing  sea,  struck  against  the 
shore,  the  Christians  followed  and  reached  them,  and  as 
many  Mussulmans  as  fell  into  their  hands  they  put  to 
death ;  of  the  galleys  some  fell  into  our  hands,  others 
were  sunk  by  the  artillery,  others  burnt.  "VYc  did  not, 
however,  gain  the  victory  without  blood,  for,  to  say 
nothing  of  many  others,  in  the  very  heat  of  the  muk'-e 
between  Siroco  and  Barbarigo,  almost  at  the  same 
moment  the  former  fell  dead,  and  the  latter  mortally 
wounded  with  an  arrow  in  his  eye,  in  the  act  of  re- 
moving the  shield  from  before  his  face,  hi  order  to  spur 


Death.  293 

the  combatants  to  do  their  utmost.  Barbarigo,  feeling 
himself  mortally  struck,  whilst  staggering  back,  ap- 
pointed in  his  place  Mario  Quirini,  who,  seconded  by 
Antonio  Canale  and  by  Cicogna,  followed  the  course  of 
victory,  destroying  the  remains  of  this  fleet  commanded 
by  Mehernet  Bey,  Pasha  of  Xegropont,  and  by  Ali,  the 
redoutable  Corsair.  It  was  in  this  action  that  Cicogna, 
wounded  in  the  hands  and  face  by  a  grenade,  bearing 
manfully  the  most  intense  pain,  would  not  retire  until  he 
had  taken  the  enemy's  galley,  which  now  is  preserved  as 
a  noble  trophy  in  the  Arsenal  of  Venice ;  and  the  valiant 
Antonio  Casale  dressed  with  a  long  and  white  garment 
thickly  lined  with  cotton,  a  hat  of  the  same  material  and 
shoes  of  ropes  in  order  not  to  slip,  swinging  a  double- 
handed  sword,  filled  with  terror  and  slaughter  the 
enemy's  galleys  upon  which  he  leaped  with  wonderful 
dexterity  and  nimbleness.  Giovanni  Contarini  had  the 
glory  of  taking  the  galley  of  Siroco,  and  finding  on  it 
this  enemy  of  the  Christian  name  dead,  had  his  head  cut 
off  and  fixing  it  iipon  a  spear  cried  out  three  times  : — 
Behold  the  head  of  Siroco ! — in  order  to  encourage  his 
men,  and  terrify  the  enemy. 

"  The  dying  Barbarigo  was  lying  near  the  wheel,  and 
from  time  to  time^asked  those  around  him : — Have  we 
conquered  yet  ?  When  Quirino,  tearing  the  flag  from 
the  enemy's  mast,  ran  to  where  Barbarigo  was,  crying : 
— Victory ! — the  dying  man  wiped  the  blood  from  his 
eyes  heavy  with  death's  sleep,  and  saw  the  hated  flag, 
and  smiled ;  then  he  begged  them  to  hand  it  to  him, 
and  grasping  it  convulsively,  he  rolled  himself  hi  it  as  in 
a  winding  sheet,  and  expired.  We,  daring  not  to  sepa- 
rate him  from  the  trophy  upon  which  his  glorious  soul 


, 

294  Isabella  Orsini. 

breathed  its  last,  wrapped  in  the  same  flag  buried  him 
with  great  honors  in  consecrated  ground. 

"But  the  greatest  struggle  took  place  around  the  battk. 
Ali  Pasha  had  come  forward  boldly,  and  as  the  Turks 
are  accustomed  to,  with  a  deafening  noise  of  drums,  trum- 
pets, and  similar  warlike  instruments  ;  and  they  even 
presumed  to  frighten  us  more  with  threats,  cries,  and 
striking  of  weapons  against  each  other.  Don  John, 
armed  with  mail,  holding  a  heavy  battle-axe  in  his  hand, 
placed  himself  with  all  his  person  exposed  in  a  lofty 
place  on  the  poop,  and  ordered  Lopez  di  Figheroa, 
leader  of  the  arquibusiers,  that  whatever  the  enemies 
might  say  or  do,  no  one  should  dare  to  open  the  fire 
until  he  had  given  a  signal  by  lifting  his  battle-axe.  The 
Moslems  advancing  nearer  and  nearer,  fired  their  arque- 
buses and  arrows,  with  no  small  loss  on  our  side ;  and 
we  were  also  greatly  damaged  by  two  cannon  in  the 
enemy's  prow,  which  would  have  cleared  our  decks  if 
they  had  been  quicker  in  loading  and  firing  them.  It 
seemed  hard  to  us  to  be  forced  to  remain  inactive  during 
so  great  a  slaughter,  so  much  the  more  as  from  time  to 
time  we  saw  some  friend  or  relative  fall  at  our  side,  re- 
moved all  bleeding,  and  carried  below.  We  should  have 
accused  Don  John  of  cowardice,  if  w"e  had  not  known 
what  a  man  he  was ;  and  looking  at  him,  he  seemed  to 
us  a  statue  of  bronze  amid  bullets  and  arrows  which 
hissed  around  him,  and  of  which  he  took  no  more  notice 
than  of  the  wind  which  lifted  his  hair.  When  the  Turk- 
ish Heal  arrived  within  less  than  half  an  arquebuse  shot 
from  us,  Don  John  raised  his  battle-axe,  and  whirled  it 
impetuously  around  his  head :  our  fire  seemed  one  single 
shot;  the  smoke  moving  towards  the  enemy  prevented 


. 

Death.  295 

us  from  seeing  the  damage  which  they  had  received; 
when  it  cleared  off,  the  enemy's  deck  looked  almost 
deserted.  But  before  the  smoke  had  entirely  passed 
away  Don  John  ordered  the  oarsmen  to  pull  with  their 
wrhole  might,  and  the  galley,  pushed  also  by  the  wind, 
flew  h'ke  a  bird.  Don  John  had  also  prepared  another 
stratagem,  which  was  this,  to  have  the  beak  of  his  galley 
suddenly  cut,  so  that,  approaching  nearer  to  the  enemies, 
there  would  be  a  better  opportunity  of  boarding  them : 
this  example  was  immediately  followed  by  us  all,  and 
was  another  cause  of  victory. 

"The  smoke  disappeared,  and  All's  galley  seemed 
almost  deserted.  Don  John,  seizing  the  opportunity, 
cried : — Forward,  cavaliers,  let  us  go  to  victory  .  .  .  we 
cannot  but  conquer,  for  dying,  there  awaits  us  a  palm  in 
heaven ;  living,  a  laurel  on  the  earth. — And  cutting  short 
his  speech,  being  more  eager  to  act,  he  ran  impetuously 
forward,  followed  by  his  valiant  knights,  and  behold  in  an 
instant  they  boarded  and  entered  the  Turkish  Real, 
Ah',  meanwhile,  a  wary  captain,  had  called  aid  from  the 
surrounding  ships,  who,  approaching  quickly,  by  means 
of  ladders  and  ropes,  ascended  from  abaft,  whilst  ours 
entered  from  the  prow :  thence  the  battle  was  renewed 
more  bitterly,  and  all  concentrated  about  the  mainmast ; 
the  Turks  were  not  able  to  expel  the  Christians,  nor  the 
Christians  to  master  entirely  the  half  conquered  galley. 
The  crowd  was  so  great,  and  the  ranks  so  close,  that 
they  could  not  use  any  other  weapon  than  the  poniard, 
and  the  combatants,  crazy  with  fury,  used  their  teeth  as 
if  they  had  been  wild  beasts  ;  and  one  could  have  seen 
that  forest  of  heads  bending  to  and  fro,  like  a  field  of 
ripe  gram  agitated  by  contrary  winds.  They  asked  for 


296  Isabella  Orsini. 

no  quarter,  nor  desired  it :  it  was  a  war  of  extermination^ 
But  whatever  might  have  been  the  cause,  behold  the 
Christians  began  to  waver,  drew  back,  and  the  adversa- 
ries where  ours  raised  their  feet,  placed  theirs,  and  grew 
bold  hi  proportion  as  ours  lost  courage :  already  many 
of  the  retreating,  pressed  by  the  irresistible  impetus,  fell 
headlong  into  the  water,  others  more  fortunate  leaped 
upon  the  Heal  of  Spain.  .  .  What  more  ?  Don  John 
himself  is  carried  along  hi  the  shameful  flight.  Our 
commanders,  though,  not  less  wary  than  the  enemy,  had 
already  reinforced  the  Meal  with  fresh  troops,  who 
coming  to  the  rescue  not  only  prevented  the  Turks  from 
boarding  our  galley,  not  only  held  them  steadfast  upon 
the  extreme  edge  of  the  prow,  but  pushed  them  back 
forcibly,  and  gave  a  chance  to  ours  to  board  again  the 
Turkish  Heal.  A  new  struggle  was  engaged  upon  the 
galley's  deck,  and  already  for  more  than  an  hour  blood 
had  been  shed,  nor  could  it  be  told  where  victory  would 
lean ;  the  deck  was  covered  with  blood,  all  along  the 
gangways,  down  in  the  sides  the  galley  drips  blood,  the 
sea  raising  its  foam  horribly  red  seemed  to  boil  with 
blood.  Alas!  what  cruel  wine  war  pours  in  her  ban- 
quets!— Four  times  were  we  repulsed,  four  tunes  we 
boarded  the  Turkish  Meal:  torn  on  both  sides,  on  both 
sides  many  illustrious  dead,  and  the  surviving  ones 
partly  wounded,  partly  so  exhausted,  as  not  to  be  able  to 
raise  their  swords.  In  one  of  these  struggles  the  valor- 
ous knight  Bernardino  Cardine  was  killed  without  any 
wound:  a  cannon  ball  struck  his  shield,  which,  being 
covered  with  excellent  steel  plate,  did  not  break,  but  hit 
so  violently  against  his  breast,  that  he  fell  dead  on  the 
deck.  And  the  last  time  Don  John  was  repulsed, 


Death.  297 

another  noteworthy  accident  happened ;  he  was  retreat- 
ing without  ever  turning  his  head  from  the  enemy,  when 
either  his  foot  slipped  upon  the  gory  deck,  or  by  some 
other  accident  lie  fell,  and  was  on  the  point  of  foiling 
headlong  into  the  water,  had  it  not  been  for  a  Spanish 
soldier,  who  had  never  departed  from  his  side,  and  who 
seizing  him  by  the  waist  with  his  right  hand,  held  him- 
self fast  with  his  left  in  the  rigging.  Suddenly  the  soldier 
uttered  a  cry ;  his  left  arm  hung  down  severed,  he  and 
Don  John  would  have  fallen  overboard,  had  not  the 
Spaniard  happened  to  seize  a  rope  with  his  teeth,  and 
hold  fast  to  it  until,  with  ready  aid,  they  were  both 
saved. 

"  Don  John  unhurt  prepared  himself  for  the  last  struggle. 
— Valiant  men,  he  cried,  yet  one  last  effort,  and  we 
have  conquered. — Whilst  he  was  about  reorganizing  his 
Spanish  knights,  who  on  that  day  showed  really  a  Roman 
valor,  two  events  happened  which  gave  us  the  victory. 
The  galley  commanded  by  Alfonzo  d'Appiano  thundered 
with  its  artillery  on  the  Turkish  Real,  and  being  of  low 
deck,  sent  its  shots  into  the  hull  of  the  enemy,  destroying 
everything  they  met,  and  this  was  one  of  the  chief  things 
to  which  we  owed  our  victory.  A  shot  hit  a  large  beam, 
and  hurled  it  with  so  much  violence  against  Ali,  that  he, 
hurt  in  many  places,  struck  violently  against  the  main- 
mast, and  gushing  blood  from  many  wounds,  fell  down 
dying  upon  the  deck. — Xow  what  was  Marcantonio 
Colonna  doing  ?  Had  his  valor,  the  memory  of  past  deeds, 
the  warmth  with  which  he  had  undeitaken  this  enterprise, 
foiled  him  all  at  once,  and  in  this  great  moment  of  need  ? 
How  could  he,  a  general  of  the  Pontiff,  see  unmoved  so 
much  Christian  blood  shed  ? — He  was  sailing  over  the 
13* 

Ji* 


298  Isabella  Orsini. 

waters  as  if  he  was  taking  a  pleasure  trip  to  enjoy  the 
evening  breeze ;  he  even  disappeared  from  the  deck,  and 
no  one  knew  what  had  become  of  him. — This  most 
singular  man  had  had  the  constancy  to  remain  in  the 
midst  of  the  fire  of  artillery,  the  breaking  of  beams,  the 
falling  of  masts  and  ropes,  amidst  the  horrible  and  various 
aspects  of  death,  without  moving  an  inch,  awaiting  the 
opportune  time  of  exterminating  the  enemy :  when  he 
perceived  the  chance  before  him,  he  rushed  below  deck, 
and  addressing  the  galley-slaves  at  the  oars,  thus  spoke : 
Men !  God  had  redeemed  you,  and  you  have  rendered 
yourselves  unworthy  of  the  redemption ;  the  water  of 
baptism  was  poured  on  your  heads  in  vain,  for  you  have 
so  contaminated  them  with  wicked  deeds,  that  there  is 
no  more  room  for  a  blessing.  You  despair  of  your  eternal 
safety.  Your  mothers,  your  wives,  your  children,  when- 
ever in  this  world  they  proffer  your  name,  bow  down 
their  faces  for  shame ;  the  citizens  look  upon  you  as  wild 
beasts.  Heaven  repulses  you,  and  the  earth  abhors  you. 
No  matter,  I  will  reconcile  you  both  to  God  and  men  : 
I  can  so  do  that  your  names  shah1  be  recalled  with  pride 
by  your  relatives ;  I  can  so  do  that  the  hand  of  the  most 
noble  knight  of  Christendom  shall  be  stretched  towards 
yours  without  esteeming  it  dishonored.  .  ." — And  those 
poor  men  cried  with  one  voice : — "Alas!  our  Lord,  have 
mercy  upon  us  !  Give  us  at  least  the  chance  of  dying  in 
battle." — "Be  it  so,"  replied  Marcantonio,  "I  give  you 
your  liberty :  do  not  move  from  your  posts :  I  return  on 
deck :  when  you  hear  the  sound  of  a  trumpet,  be  ready, 
and  at  the  second  blast,  bend  to  your  oars  with  the 
greatest  strength  that  nature  has  given  you.  When  you 
shall  perceive  that  we  have  struck  the  enemy's  galley, 


Death.  299 

then  come  out,  and  fight  as  your  souls  may  inspire  you. 
— He  returned  on  deck,  and  seizing  the  helm  directed  the 
prow  against  the  vessel  of  Ali.  The  trumpet  sounded 
the  first  blast,  then  the  second.  The  galley  leaped  like  a 
wounded  seal  through  the  water,  which,  struck  violently 
by  the  oars,  surged  and  gurgled,  foaming  impetuously ; 
then  darting  over  a  short  space  struck  with  an  irresistible 
impetus  the  designed  place.  The  Turkish  Heal  was 
almost  upset :  on  one  side  the  deck  was  plunged  into  the 
sea,  on  the  other  it  even  showed  its  keel ;  the  greater  part 
of  its  defenders  was  hurled  with  great  force  far  into  the 
water,  and  it  would  have  been  even  so  with  the  Admiral, 
had  he  not  grappled  the  mainmast  with  both  arms. 
When  the  galley  righted,  Colonna,  taking  advantage  of 
the  enemy's  confusion,  jumped  on  board  accompanied 
by  his  men,  and  made  himself  master  of  it.  This  deed 
rekindled  the  ire  of  the  commanders  of  the  galleys 
ordered  to  the  defence  of  the  Real,  and  seven  of  them 
moved  at  once  to  the  rescue,  and  threatened  Don  John. 
Veniero  alone  moved  to  meet  them  all,  sustaining  their 
attacks  with  wonderful  valor.  But  that  fierce  old  man, 
overcome  by  the  number,  saw  every  moment  his  men 
diminish  ;  an  arrow  had  pierced  his  foot,  and  partly  on 
account  of  the  intensity  of  the  pain,  partly  by  the  loss  of 
blood,  he  felt  that  he  could  withstand  it  no  longer :  there 
was  urgent  need  of  help,  but  he  would  not  bend  to  ask  it. 
Giovanni  Loredano  and  Caterino  Malipiero  saw  the 
danger  of  the  illustrious  old  man,  and  rushed  to  his 
assistance ;  these  two  chivalrous  youths  could  have 
remained  behind  the  bulwarks,  which  were  to  us  a  great 
shelter  through  that  battle,  but  their  bold  nature  did 
not  allow  it ;  they  stood  both  exposed  from  their  waist 


300  Isabella  Orsini. 

upwards,  and  fighting  like  true  champions  of  Christ, 
they  fell  both  dead  on  the  deck,  hit  by  several  shots. 
The  Marquis  of  Santa  Croce,  who  had  already  moved  to 
their  aid,  arrived,  if  not  in  time  to  save  their  lives,  at 
least  opportunely  to  avenge  their  deaths :  the  Turks  were 
all  cut  to  pieces,  and  the  galleys  fell  into  our  hands. 
The  report  tells  that  Veniero  made  himself  master  of 
the  Capitana  of  Pertau  Pasha,  but  it  is  not  true,  for  it 
was  the  Lomellina  that  conquered  Pertau. . ." 

"Ah!  my  Lord  Duke,"  interrupted  Titta,  "it  ill 
becomes  you  to  relate  this  part  of  the  battle.  It  was 
indeed  so;  we  conquered  the  Capitana  of  the  Pasha, 
and  in  truth,  if  we  used  all  our  utmost  efforts  to  conquer, 
the  enemies  also  used  no  less  desperate  resistance  to 
oppose  us.  I  remember  that  the  valiant  Marino  Contarino 
died  in  this  affray ;  and,  with  immortal  example,  the  four 
brothers  Cornaro ;  alas !  the  flower  of  the  most  magnani- 
mous knights  was  dying ;  but,  although  beset  on  all  sides 
by  the  enemy's  galleys,  we  did  not  abandon  our  prize,  and 
rushed  on,  determined  to  conquer  or  to  die.  It  is  true 
that  every  footstep  we  advanced  cost  us  blood,  but  they 
were  footsteps  to  victory:  already  panting  and  fighting 
with  our  daggers,  we  reached  the  middle  of  the  galloy. 
My  Lord  the  Duke  at  the  head  of  all  seemed  an  angel 
who  led  us  to  triumph  .  .  ." 

"And  if  you,  Titta,  had  loved  your  master  less,  by 
this  time  there  would  only  be  left  of  him  the  bare  bones, 
and  the  name.  I  recall  with  grief  to  my  mind  Orazio  and 
Virginio  Orsini,  my  relatives,  who  fell  mortally  wounded 
at  my  feet ;  and  my  nephew  Fabio,  who,  hit  by  a  shot  on 
his  shoulder,  rolled  on  the  deck,  and  died  without 
lamenting  the  flower  of  Ms  lost  youth,  happy  at  being 


Death.  30 1 

called  so  soon  to  the  peace  of  God ;  and  I,  whilst  I  bent 
down  to  help  him,  felt  my  left  leg  transfixed  by  an  arrow, 
and  as  I  lifted  my  head,  a  hand  grasping  a  poniard  was 
about  striking  me  unprepared  for  defence ;  the  poniard 
escaped  from  the  hand,  and  fell  harmless  upon  my  body, 
the  hand  also  fell  upon  my  head,  but  severed  from  the 
arm,  and  with  it  a  torrent  of  blood  poured  on  my  face . . ." 

"  So  it  was ;  it  came  in  my  way  without  my  thinking 
of  it,  and  I  cut  it  off  like  a  reed  .  .  ." 

"  And  I  profess  myself  indebted  to  you  for  my  life,  and 
as  long  as  Paolo  Giordano  Orsini  shall  have  a  heart  and 
a  home,  Titta  Carbonana  will  occupy  a  place  in  them . . . 
— Let  us  drink ! — To  the  memory  of  the  dead  in  the  battle 
of  Lepanto !" 

"  May  God  keep  them  all  in  His  glory!" — was  answered 
from  all  sides. 

"  Come  now,"  continued  the  Duke,  "  let  us  finish  the 
story.  Our  Lomellina,  aided  by  Vincenzo  Querini,  took 
five  out  of  the  seven  galleys  that  fought  against  it. 
Pertau,  throwing  himself  into  a  skiff,  using  his  oars 
vigorously,  went  off;  and  we  saw  the  back  of  this  cruel 
man  turned  in  bitter  flight.  Many  boast  of  having  killed 
Caracozza;  but  the  truth  is  that  Giovanbattista  Benedetti, 
of  Cyprus,  a  man  of  great  valor,  having  overcome  the 
Corcut  galley,  noticed  Caracozza  near  by,  and  rushed 
desperately  upon  him.  "With  no  less  fury  Caracozza  fell 
upon  Benedetti,  whether  driven  to  it  by  a  desire  for 
glory,  or,  as  it  was  supposed,  by  an  old  enmity:  they  met: 
— a  discharge  of  arquebuses  fired  from  both  sides  enve- 
loped them  in  smoke,  and  when  it  cleared  off,  they  were 
both  dead,  shot  with  many  bullets  in  the  breast.  The 
command  of  Benedetti  devolved  on  Onorato  Gaetano, 


302  Isabella  Orsini. 

nephew  of  the  Pope,  who,  as  we  have  heard  from  persons 
worthy  of  belief,  seconded  by  Alessandro  Negroni  and 
by  Pattaro  Buzzacherino,  with  no  great  difficulty,  brought 
this  honorable  fight  to  a  happy  end.  The  Christian  slaves 
upon  the  Turkish  galleys,  noticing  by  the  confusion  that 
fortune  was  abandoning  their  hated  masters,  break  their 
chains,  and  seizing  those  arms  which  despair  or  chance 
places  in  their  hands,  take  a  bitter  revenge  for  their  long 
suiferings,  and  insure  the  victory.  Whilst  these  events 
were  taking  place  in  the  battle,  and  on  the  left  wing  of 
the  Christian  armada,  the  right  wing  was  meeting  with 
an  adverse  fate.  Giovanni  Andrea  Doria,  who  was  to 
detach  himself  only  four  lengths  of  a  galley  from  the 
battle,  transgressed  his  orders,  and  extended  his  line  too 
far.  They  say  that  he  did  this  with  a  good  intention, 
both  in  order  to  give  more  freedom  of  action  to  the 
battle,  and  to  the  left  wing  to  place  themselves  in  good 
order,  and  also  for  fear  of  being  surrounded  by  Uluch  Ah", 
who  came  against  him  with  a  greater  number  of  galleys 
than  his  own ;  or  perhaps  in  order  to  take  the  wind  aft, 
so  as  to  fall  with  greater  force  upon  the  enemy.  But 
Uluch  Ali,  a  most  expert  sea  captain,  when  he  saw  that 
the  galleys  of  the  right  wing,  so  scattered  and  distant, 
could  not  easily  help  each  other,  without  minding  that 
he  was  on  the  lee,  beset  on  all  sides  the  scattered  ships 
with  a  superior  force,  and  after  killing  the  principal 
captains,  took  twelve  of  them.  On  this  occasion  the  great 
valor  of  Benedetto  Soranzo  was  manifest ;  a  man  rather 
to  be  compared  to  the  ancient  than  to  modern  heroes ; 
for  seeing  the  greater  part  of  his  companions  around 
him  dead  or  wounded,  and  he  himself  being  wounded  in 
several  places,  he  had  not  the  heart  to  allow  his  galley  to 


Death.  303 

be  trodden  by  the  foot  of  a  Moslem,  nor  that  one  day  the 
nu'iny,  refitting  it,  should  use  it  against  his  most  beloved 
country  ;  therefore,  rushing  below  where  the  ammunition 
of  powder  was  stored,  he  set  fire  to  it,  and  huiied,  with 
terrible  explosion,  himself,  the  galley,  and  all  the  enemies 
that  stood  on  it,  torn  and  mutilated  into  the  air.  One 
alone  by  a  lucky  chance  escaped,  and  it  was  Giacomo 
Giustiniani,  who,  thrown  uninjured  far  distant  into  the 
water,  succeeded  miraculously  in  saving  himself  by 
swimming.  Nor  ought  I  to  be  silent  about  the  fierce 
encounter  of  the  Capitana  of  Malta,  which,  assailed  by 
three  Turkish  galleys,  fought  intrepidly ;  but  Uluch  Ali, 
recognising  the  flag  of  St.  John,  and  as  he  professed 
himself  a  mortal  enemy  to  the  Order  of  Malta,  did  not 
shame  to  send  against  it  three  other  galleys  hi  order  to 
have  it  at  all  cost.  Pietro  Giustignano,  general  of  the 
Order,  seeing  that  there  was  no  chance  left  for  himself 
and  his  knights,  exhorted  them  to  die  chivalrously,  since 
there  was  no  hope  of  conquering,  and  as  to  surrendering, 
not  one  even  thought  of  it.  This  combat  of  six  galleya 
against  one,  glorious  for  the  Christians,  infamous  for  the 
Turks,  lasted  three  hours ;  two  thirds  of  the  rowers  lay 
dead,  the  other  third  were  bleeding ;  the  general  killed 
with  three  ghastly  wounds;  fifty  most  noble  knights 
dead ;  the  galley  occupied  even  to  the  main  castle ;  the 
banner  fallen  into  the  enemy's  hands ;  and  yet  the  sur- 
vivors strove  to  defend  themselves.  Agnolo  Martellini, 
a  Florentine  knight,  who  was  less  wounded  than  the 
others,  sustained  the  honorable  and  hopeless  defence. 
Uluch  Ali,  mad  with  rage,  ordered  the  galley  to  be  set 
on  fire,  but  Doria,  spurring  his  oarsmen  to  their  utmost, 
reached  it  in  time  for  revenge,  and  accomplished  it ;  for 


304  Isabella  Orsini. 

falling  upon  the  enemy,  wearied  by  the  bitter  struggle, 
he  made  a  horrible  slaughter,  killing  Carag  Ali,  Captain 
of  Algiers,  with  many  other  Turkish  officers. — And 
glorious  with  fame  and  misfortune  were  the  Tuscan 
galleys,  which  unfortunately  were  under  the  orders  of 
Doria.  The  Florentina,  assailed  by  seven  small  galleys, 
was  empty  both  of  soldiers  and  crew;  Tommaso  dei 
Medici,  badly  wounded,  alone  survived ;  but  the  greater 
part  of  the  knights  of  St.  Stephen  died  fighting  till  their 
last  breath.  The  galley  of  St.  John,  commanded  by  the 
knight  Agnolo  Biffali,  suffered  a  struggle  no  less  fatal ; 
for  the  captain  was  wounded  by  two  arquebuse  shots  on 
the  neck ;  and  besides  the  knights  Simone  Tornabuoni 
and  Luigi  Ciacchi,  there  perished  sixty  most  valiant 
soldiers;  and  worse  would  the  galley  upon  which  Ascianio 
della  Cornia  was  fighting  have  fared,  surrounded  by  four 
of  the  enemy,  if  Alfouzo  di  Appiano,  admiral  of  the 
Florentine  galleys,  had  come  less  quickly  to  his  aid.  But 
now  there  rang  from  every  side  the  cry  of  victory,  and 
.Uluch  Ali,  seeing  all  the  enemy's  armada  move  against 
him  to  surround  and  overcome  him,  resolved  to  draw  off. 
Don  Giovanni  di  Cardona  endeavored  to  oppose  his  re- 
treat with  eight  Sicilian  galleys,  but  thrust  aside  by  supe- 
rior force,  with  no  little  damage,  he  was  obliged  to  yield 
the  way.  The  Admirals  Canale  and  Querini  endeavored 
to  give  chase  to  him,  but,  their  oarsmen  being  too  much 
exhausted  by  the  fatigues  endured,with  infinite  bitterness, 
they  had  to  allow  him  to  save  himself  with  his  forty  ships, 
our  galley  of  Corfu,  and  the  banner  of  St.  John.  In 
this  flight  two  incidents  worthy  of  note  happened. 
Giovanbattista  Mastrillo  of  Nota  and  Giulio  Caraffa,  a 
Neapolitan,  whilst  they  were,  with  several  companions, 


Death.  305 

prisoners  on  two  separate  brigs,  showing  at  the  same 
moment  the  same  boldness,  as  if  they  had  agreed  upon 
it  before,  rose  against  the  Turks,  killed  the  Rays  and  all 
those  who  attempted  to  resist,  and  having  become,  from 
slaves  and  conquered,  free  and  conquerors,  they  returned 
to  us  with  the  enemy's  brigs  full  of  slaves  and  very  rich 
booty. 

"The  sun  was  setting,  surrounded  by  black  clouds, 
throwing  across  the  waves  an  oblique  ray,  so  that  it  hap- 
pened that  the  part  enlightened  shone  with  a  vivid 
glare,  while  the  rest  of  the  sea  was  covered  with  dark- 
ness :  to  the  roar  of  the  sea  were  added  cries,  impreca- 
tions, prayers,  sobs,  which  afar  seemed  like  a  single  wail, 
the  weeping  of  Nature  over  the  slaughter  of  her  children, 
certainly  not  created  by  her  to  thus  tear  each  other  to 
pieces !  Within  that  streak  of  light,  deeds  were  seen  to 
make  even  angels  weep ;  and  some,  but  few,  really  wor- 
thy of  the  celestial  origin  of  man.  We  could  see  some 
people  regardless  of  danger,  ascend  the  burning  galleys, 
rush  amidst  the  flames,  without  fear  that,  the  powder 
taking  fire,  plunder  and  plunderers  might  be  shattered 
to  atoms ;  others  not  yet  satisfied  with  fighting,  urged 
by  implacable  hatred,  grasping  each  other  by  the  hair 
or  beard,  and,  in  the  lack  of  weapons,  striking  with  their 
fists,  tearing  each  other  with  their  teeth,  and  now  one 
head,  now  another,  disappearing  under  the  water,  until 
the  latter,  as  if  disdainful  that  so  much  anger  should  yet 
last  in  creatures  so  weak  and  perishable,  whirled  them 
into  its  immense  bosom,  to  rise  no  more.  A  little  fur- 
ther on,  two,  three,  or  four  men  would  contend  for  a 
mast,  board,  or  beam,  in  order  to  cling  to  it,  and  remain 
until  some  aid  could  arrive ;  but  while  with  more  charity 


306  Isabella  Orsini. 

and  better  wisdom,  that  plank  of  safety  might  have  been 
enough  for  all,  wasting  their  last  strength  to  possess  it, 
each  one  exclusively,  a  common  fate  overpowered  them 
all;  others,  stupid  with  fear,  hating  to  drown,  would  get 
hold  of  a  burning  fragment,  and  escaping  the  water,  per- 
ish by  the  flames ;  and  an  infinite  number  of  skiifs  rowed 
on  this  side  and  on  that,  full  of  people  drunk  with 
victory,  who  used  the  heads  of  Turks  swimming  on  the 
water  for  targets,  as  the  hunter  does  the  ducks  in  a 
pond ;  and  to  those  who  approached  begging  for  their 
lives,  they  would  allow  that  they  should  catch  hold  of 
the  edge  of  the  skiffs,  or  extend  an  oar  as  if  to  help  them, 
then  with  the  axe  would  cut  their  hands  or  cleave  their 
heads  with  shocking  and  cruel  wounds.  A  few  of  these 
skiffs  went  in  search  of  some  beloved  relative  or  com- 
panion, whether  alive  or  dead :  sacred  but  vain  under- 
taking !  not  entirely  vain,  however  ;  for  some  succeeded 
in  finding  what  they  sought,  and  saved  a  dear  friend 
from  a  watery  grave  :  if  yet  alive,  they  would  strive  with 
all  manner  of  remedies  to  bandage  his  wounds,  and  pre- 
serve his  life ;  but  if  dead,  they  would  clothe  him,  arm 
him  with  his  best  armor,  place  a  sword  in  his  hand,  and 
honor  him  with  praise  and  worship  as  if  a  martyr. 

"  This  battle,  in  which  more  than  five  hundred  ships 
were  engaged,  lasted  from  midday  till  after  four  o'clock : 
of  the  enemy  there  died,  some  say  twenty  thousand, 
some  thirty  thousand,  and  some,  even  more ;  no  one 
counted  them.*  On  our  side,  seven  thousand  six  hun- 
dred and  fifty-six  failed  to  answer  the  roll ;  we  liberated 

*  But  no  one  counted  them.  This  was  the  expression  used  by  that 
judicious  Ludovico  Muratori  narrating  in  his  Annals  the  Battle  of  Le- 
panto. 


Death.  307 

twelve  thousand  Christian  slaves;  took  two  hundred 
ships ;  lost  only  the  galley  of  Corfu :  of  all  the  other 
fillips  of  the  enemy,  except  the  forty  escaped  with 
Uluch  Ali,  some  were  sunk,  some  burned ;  we  took  one 
hundred  and  seventeen  cannons,  two  hundred  and  fifty- 
eight  smaller  pieces  of  artillery,  and  seventeen  mortars  ; 
the  prisoners  falling  into  our  hands  were  four  thousand, 
among  whom  were  the  two  sons  of  Ali  Pasha,  the 
oldest  of  whom  died  at  Naples  of  a  broken  heart ;  and 
the  other  was  kindly  treated  by  the  Pope,  and  then,  at 
the  instance  of  Don  John,  restored  without  ransom. 
The  booty  was  immense.  In  the  gaEey  of  Ali  were  found 
twenty-two  thousand  crowns  of  gold,  in  the  other  of 
Caracozza,  forty  thousand ;  and  in  all  the  others  a  great 
quantity  of  money,  weapons,  cloth,  and  rich  garments ; 
since  the  Turks,  thinking  by  merely  showing  themselves 
to  put  the  Christians  to  flight,  and  that  they  were  going 
on  an  excursion  rather  than  to  a  fight,  came  provided 
with  their  best  habiliments  and  draperies,  and  sur- 
rounded by  all  those  luxuries  which  they  Were  accus- 
tomed to  enjoy  in  the  security  of  cities ;  besides  they 
brought  with  them  the  noble  spoils  of  Cyprus  and  the 
Christian  shores,  which  in  their  long  voyage  they  had 
plundered. 

"  But  General  Veniero,  who,  having  passed  the  greater 
part  of  his  life  at  sea,  was  a  cautious  mariner,  advised 
Don  John  to  put  into  some  neighboring  port  without 
loss  of  time,  and  selected  Petala  on  the  coast  of  Matalia, 
since  the  weather  threatened  a  storm.  The  armada  fol- 
lowed the  command,  and  forcing  their  sails  and  oars, 
rode  safely  at  anchor  about  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening 
at  Petala,  only  six  miles  from  the  scene  of  battle. 


308  Isabella  Orsini. 

"  Don  John,  urged  by  his  generous  nature,  ordered  first 
of  all  that  the  wounded  should  be  provided  for,  and  we 
obeyed  as  well  as  we  could ;  and  he  himself,  without 
indulging  in  rest  or  food,  visited  the  sick.  Indeed  he 
could  be  of  little  aid  to  these  unfortunate  people,  but 
his  friendly  presence,  the  chivalry  of  his  aspect,  a  word 
of  comfort  spoken  to  some"  one  of  them,  rendered  the 
pains  of  the  wounds  less  bitter,  and  death  more  tolerable. 
Now  it  happened,  that  while  Don  John  was  passing  near 
a  wounded  man  lying  on  a  heap  of  straw,  the  latter 
saluted  him  familiarly,  saying : 

" '  Buenas  noches,  Don  Juan.' 

"  And  the  former,  to  whom  the  voice  was  not  new,  but 
who,  in  that  moment,  could  not  remember  whose  it  was, 
replied  in  his  native  tongue,  in  which  the  wounded  man 
had  spoken : 

" '  God  and  the  Holy  Virgin  keep  you  in  their  guard, 
brave  man:  you,  as  it  seems,  are  wounded;  suffer 

patiently ;  I  pray  God  for  your  health With  a 

little  price  you  have  acquired  an  immortal  fame.'  .  . 

"  *  The  price  is  not  little  ; — but  no  matter,  Don  John, 
you  do  not  seem  to  recognise  me.' 

" '  It  seems  to  me !  ...  But  can  it  be  possible !  .  .  • 
Don  Miguel  ?'  .  .  . 

" '  De  Cervantes  Saavedra,  at  your  service.' 

" '  What !   Don  Miguel  ?   Give  me  your  hand.' 

" '  I  have  already  given  it  to  you,  Don  John ;  if  it  could 
grow  again,  by  my  faith,  I  would  give  it  to  you  again.' 

"  And  the  wounded  man  showed  in  the  dark  his  muti- 
lated arm  wrapped  in  bloody  linen.  Don  John  then 
recognised  in  him  the  soldier  who  had  supported  him 
when  falling  and  in  danger  of  his  life  ;  he  was  silent,  and 


Death. 


3°9 


had  it  not  been  for  the  darkness,  we  should  have  seen 
the  unconquerable  captain  weep.  After  a  short  pause, 
Don  John  resumed  in  a  moved  voice  : 

"  '  And  when  did  you  arrive  ?  And  why  did  you  not 
present  yourself?' 

"  Don  Miguel  replied : 

" '  I  arrived  late,  because,  thanks  to  the  sacred  college 
of  the  Muses,*  of  whom  I  confess  myself  a  most  unwor- 
thy priest,  I  had  not  money  enough  to  pay  for  a  horse 
or  carriage  to  go  from  Genoa  to  Naples ;  and  God  knows 
how  I  grieved  about  it,  for  fear  of  not  arriving  in  time ; 
but  as  it  pleased  Our  Lady,  I  reached  the  army  in  time 
for  the  review  which  you  held  at  Gomenizze.  I  had 
resolved  to  place  myself  during  the  battle  at  your  side, 
prepared  to  defend  with  my  life  the  most  valiant  cham- 
pion of  Christianity,  and  the  noblest  blood  of  Spain. 
Fortune,  kind  to  me  for  this  once,  assented  fully  to  my 
design,  and  I  ought  to  thank  her,  if,  having  resigned  my 
life  to  her,  she  restored  it  to  me  with  one  hand  the  less. 
It  seemed  then  better  to  me  not  to  discover  myself,  for 
if  death  spared  me,  I  could  have  pressed  your  honored 
hand,  and  rejoiced  in  your  glory  ;  if,  on  the  contrary,  it 
Avas  destined  that  I  should  fall,  you,  being  ignorant  of 
it,  would  not  have  grieved  for  me ;  and,  finally,  if  we 

*  God  of  the  lyre,  and  goddesses  of  song 

In  vain  for  gold  your  faithful  votaries  sigh, 

Small  need  and  recompense  to  them  belong ; — 

E'en  a  poor  cloak  I  have  not  means  to  buy. 

Apollo,  tuo  merce,  tuo  merce"  santo 
Collegio  delle  Muse,  io  non  mi  trovo 
Tauto  per  voi,  ch'io  possa  farmi  un  manto. 

ARIOSTO — SATIRE. 


31  o  Isabella  Orsini. 

had  both  died,  we  should  now  be  together  in  the  pre- 
sence of  God.' 

"  These  simple  words,  yet  full  of  majesty  and  greatness, 
filled  us  \vith  wonder ;  when  a  Spaniard  interrupted  our 
holy  silence,  observing: — 'Who  would  have  believed 
we  should  meet  our  Poet  among  the  warriors  of  Lepan- 
to  ?' — To  which  observation  Don  Miguel  calmly  replied : 

" '  Sir  knight,  your  wonder  would  cease,  if  you  would 
for  a  moment  consider  that  all  that  which  appears  to  us 
great,  noble,  and  glorious,  is  poetry.  Our  Don  John 
ought  to  be  hailed  as  the  greatest  Poet  of  Spain.  .  .  . 
There  are  two  kinds  of  Poets — those  who  enact  glorious 
things,  and  those  who  sing  them.  Don  John  has  given 
us  the  subject  of  the  poem — now  who  will  write  for  him 
the  noble  Epic  ?  Ah !  Lord  .  .  .  not  I ...  for  I  am  not 
equal  to  the  task.' 

"  Thus  met  the  two  choicest  spirits  that  Spain  ever  pro- 
duced: both  very  great  and  both  very  unhappy,  and 
held  in  little  repute  in  that  country,  which  shall  have 
fame  among  posterity  principally  because  it  was  their 
native  place. 

"As  Veniero  had  foreseen,  a  terrible  storm  ragc-d 
during  the  night.  The  burning  galleys,  blazing  more 
than  ever,  now  appeared  upon  the  summit  of  the  waves, 
now  disappeared ;  some,  leaning  sideways,  moved  rapidly 
on  the  surface  of  the  water.  .  .  Indeed  they  looked  like 
demons,  who  issuing  from  hell  had  come  to  gather  souls, 
and  to  exult  over  the  immense  slaughter  in  the  place 
of  combat ! — On  the  morrow,  thousands  of  corpses 
were  washed  on  shore,  and  the  ocean  rolled  on  as  in  the 
first  days  of  creation :  the  swelling  surge  breaking 
against  the  shore,  seemed  to  say  : — '  O  land,  take  back 


Death.  311 

your  children ;  behold !  with  a  breath  of  my  nostrils  I 
have  repulsed  this  bloody  and  cruel  dust,  which  you  call 
humanity.  If  your  children  love  to  furrow  my  face,  I 
soon  close  up  this  furrow,  so  that  none  can  find  the 
trace  of  it.  If  I  bear  them  on  my  back,  I  do  it  as  a  boy 
with  playthings,  in  order  to  divert  myself,  and  then  I 
break  them :  behold,  I  have  purified  myself  from  them  ; 
the  trace  of  the  slaughter  of  Lepanto  remains  upon  me 
as  the  trace  of  the  halcyon's  flight  through  the  air.  You, 
my  unworthy  sister,  allow  their  cities  to  stand,  and, 
daily  torn  and  tortured  hi  a  thousand  ways,  dare  not 
revenge  yourself,  but  from  your  open  furrows  send  forth 
everlasting  fruits  to  nourish  them ;  come !  be  wise 
once,  open  your  bosom  and  bury  them  all.  If,  when 
greatly  angered,  you  overthrow  some  city,  or  swallow 
some  chain  of  mountains,  your  wrath  seems  more  like 
that  of  a  mother  who  chides,  than  an  executioner  who 
punishes.  I,  once,  came  to  wash  you  with  a  universal 
ablution,  and  would  gladly  do  it  again,  for  I  see  that 
you  are  more  stained  than  before,  if  the  word  of  God  did 
not  repulse  me  from  your  shores.  Come,  beg  the  Crea- 
tor with  me  to  revoke  the  command,  and  I  will  clean 
you  for  ever  with  the  multitude  of  my  waters, — with  a 
deluge — for  this  time  ; — without  Noah.'  .  .  Thus  my 
affected  fancy  imagined. — How  much  all  Christendom 
exulted,  you  all  know. 

"The  Holy  Pontiff  ordered  a  great  part  of  the  wall  near 
the  gate  of  Capena  to  be  thrown  down,  in  order  to  admit 
through  that  opening  Marcantonio  Colonna  into  Rome 
drawn  in  a  triumphal  chariot  like  the  ancient  Caesars  to 
the  Capitol,  where  there  was  presented  to  him  a  great 
amount  of  money,  which,  accepted  by  him,  he,  thanking 


312  Isabella  Orsini. 

the  Pope,  deposited  in  trust  to  be  used  as  a  dowry  for 
many  poor  and  orphan  maidens.  Thus,  rich  only  with 
increase  of  fame,  Marcantonio  returned  home,  so  much 
more  the  greatest,  as  he  was  the  only  one :  a  truly  Roman 
soul !  The  Venetians,  whose  soldiers  fallen  in  battle 
amounted  to  two  thirds  of  the  whole  armada,  would  not 
consent  to  mourn  for  the  valorous  men,  who,  fighting 
for  the  faith,  had  died  for  it  with  weapons  in  their  hands, 
leaving  immortal  fame ;  and  their  relatives  appeared  at 
the  public  thanksgivings  which  were  rendered  to  God, 
dressed  in  brocade  and  other  precious  robes :  they  also, 
a  Latin  race !  What  you  may  not  have  heard,  is  this ; 
that  Philip  of  Spain  was  very  sorry  for  the  victory, 
reproaching  his  brother  for  having  risked  the  forces  of 
the  kingdom,  without  any  advantage  resulting  to  him 
from  the  victory;  and  while  the  Holy  Pontiff,  in  the 
effusion  of  his  heart,  hailed  Don  John  with  the  words  of 
the  Evangelist : — Fuit  homo  missus  a  Deo,  GUI  nomen 
erat  Joannes  / — there  were  some  in  the  king's  council, 
who  dared  even  to  propose  whether  it  were  advisable  to 
have  his  head  cut  off.  Even  Philip  himself  was  ashamed 
of  the  impudent  cowardice  of  his  counsellors ;  a  greater 
cowardice  than  he  himself  would  have  wished.  Don  John 
escaped  with  his  life,  but  humiliated  by  the  undeserved 
rebuke,  grief  and  indignation  now  oppress  him ; — and 
this  was  Spanish  envy ! — What  benefit  did  the  Christians 
derive  from  so  many  dead,  so  much  valor,  and  such  a 
wonderful  victory  ?  Nothing,  but  fame.  O  glory,  inebria- 
tion of  great  souls,  how  you  fall  from  estimation  and  desire, 
when  you  are  made  the  tool  of  kings,  cool  calculators  of 
noble  passions !  Every  one  thinks  of  himself,  and  for  to- 
day ;  for  the  morrow  he  neither  knows  nor  cares.  Venice 


Death.  313 

on  the  sea,  Poland  on  the  land,  remain  abandoned  like 
two  lost  bulwarks  against  the  forces  of  the  enemies  of 
Faith.  One  day  (may  God  avert  the  omen)  these  bulwarks 
conquered,  the  Christians  will  awake  at  the  cries  of  the 
plundered  fields,  at  the  flames  of  the  burning  cities ; — 
if  God  does  not  help  us,  in  twenty  years  we  shall  be  all 
Moslems." 

Here  the  Duke  ended  his  long  narrative,  and  from 
around  the  room  there  rose  a  murmur  of  applause  and  at 
the  same  time  of  dread ;  and  after  the  company  had  tarried 
for  some  time  in  pleasant  conversation,  the  hour  being 
already  late,  they  rose  from  the  table.  The  Duke  dismissed 
them  with  agreeable  and  courteous  manner,  begging  them 
to  be  ready  on  the  morrow  for  the  hunt,  before  the  Sun 
should  be  too  warm.  He  himself,  offering  his  arm  to  his 
wife,  accompanied  her  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  where, 
kissing  her  hand,  with  many  wishes  for  a  very  good  night, 
he  withdrew. 

Every  one  retired  to  his  own  apartment,  and  in  expect- 
ation of  a  merry  time  for  the  morrow,  went  to  rest. 


In  less  than  half  an  hour  all  seemed  to  be  wrapt  in 
sleep.  It  seemed  only ! — The  Duke  of  Bracciano  watched. 
Coming  into  his  chamber  he  threw  himself  upon  a  seat, 
leaning  his  head  on  one  hand,  the  other  hanging  down. 
He  was  pale  and  changed,  yet  did  not  utter  a  word : 
two  beautiful  white  hounds  with  scarlet  collars  marked 
with  gold  about  their  necks,  accustomed  to  receive  his 
caresses,  lay  at  his  feet  gazing  at  him,  and  as  if  to  draw 
the  attention  of  their  master  softly  licked  his  hands.  It 

14 


314  Isabella  Orsini. 

would  seem  as  if  a  fierce  contest  betwixt  would  and  would 
not  was  raging  in  the  Duke's  soul,  and  that  having 
examined  everything,  discussed-  the  benefit  or  injury 
resulting  from  it,  weighing  all  reasons  for  good  or  bad, 
or  all  those  that  seemed  so  to  him,  and  the  insult,  the 
revenge,  and  the  forgiveness,  one  might  clearly  discern 
to  what  conclusion  he  had  at  last  arrived,  when  these 
words  escaped  from  his  lips :  "  It  is  a  thing  that  must  be 
done !"  Then  added  quickly : 

"Titta!" 

"  My  Lord." 

Duke  Bracciano  hissed  from  his  mouth  : 

"  Have  you  prepared  everything  ?" 

"  I  have." 

A  wearisome  silence  succeeded :  the  Duke  first  broke 
it  saying: 

"Titta!" 

"My  Lord." 

"  Ah !  it  would  have  been  better  to  have  died  in  the 
battle  of  Lepanto." 

"  It  would." 

"  Tell  me,  is  not  my  wife  a  handsome  woman  ?  Is  she 
not  graceful,  elegant,  endowed  with  all  the  gracious 
manners  of  noble  birth  ?" 

"  Yes,  my  Lord,  yes." 

"  And  would  it  not  seem  sacrilege  to  extinguish  in  a 
moment  with  one  treacherous  blow  so  much  beauty  and 
genius  ?" 

"  It  would  have  been  better,  my  Lord,  to  have  died  in 
the  battle  of  Lepanto !" 

The  Duke  arose,  wiping  the  perspiration  dripping 
from  his  brow; — he  walked  the  room  restlessly:  then 


Death. 


suddenly  stopping,  and  fixing  his  eyes  on  Titta, 
said: 

"  Do  you  not  know  better  than  to  express  wishes  for 
things  impossible  to  happen  ?  Have  you  no  better  advice 
than  this  for  me  ?  —  Nothing,  nothing.  Are  you  a  man,  or 
only  the  echo  of  a  cave  ?" 

"  Did  you  not  say,  it  must  be  done  f  How  can  you 
expect  servants  to  advise,  when  they  know  that  the 
master  would  hold  their  advices  as  a  resistance  to  his 
own  desires  ?" 

"  Titta,  you  are  right  ;  —  with  me  you  always  have  the 
grave  offence  of  being  in  the  right.  .  .  Is  all  that  I  ordered 
ready  ?  .  .  ." 

"  Everything  .  .  .  you  may  see  for  yourself,  ...  by  look- 
ing up.  .  ." 

"  It  is  all  right  ...  no  matter  ...  I  trust  you.  .  ."  And 
instead  of  raising  his  eyes  he  fixed  them  on  the  floor. 
"  Now  take  these  two  hounds,  and  go  as  silently  as  you 
can  to  the  room  of  the  Duchess  ;  knock  softly  .  .  .  and  say 
to  her  .  .  ."  and  he  whispered  in  his  ear.  Titta  nodded 
assent.  The  Duke  then  said  in  his  usual  voice  : 

"  Using  courteous  words  ;  in  a  pleasant  manner.  Do 
you  understand  ?  .  .  .  Go  now.  .  ." 

But  as  Titta  made  some  delay,  he  repeated  : 

"  Go  !  .  .» 

Titta  took  the  hounds,  but  before  he  crossed  the 
threshold  of  the  door  he  stopped,  and  turning  towards 
the  Duke,  said  slowly  : 

"  Must  I  go,  my  Lord  ?" 

"  Go  ...  go  ...  It  must  be  done  /" 

And  Titta  went.  —  He  ascended  the  staircase  soft- 
ly, and  approached  the  room  of  the  Duchess,  and 


316  Isabella  Orsini. 

scarcely  had  he  knocked,  before  a  voice  from  within 
called: 

"  Who  is  there  ?" 

"  I  come  by  the  Duke's  order,  my  Lady,  to  beg  you  to 
accept  these  two  hounds  that  he  sends  you  as  a  present, 
hoping  you  for  his  sake  will  hold  them  dear ;  and  desires 
also  that  to-morrow  you  will  observe  in  the  chase  if  they 
are  active  and  fleet ; — he  also  prays  you  to  come  to  him 
for  a  short  tune,  wishing  to  see  you,  after  so  many  years 
of  absence,  without  witnesses." 

Titta,  on  entering,  saw  the  Duchess  with  the  Lady 
Lucrezia  Frescobaldi  kneeling  before  an  image  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin,  reading  prayers  from  a  Missal ;  and  he 
said  to  himself:  "Better  thus,  she  is  provided  with 
sacrament  for  the  great  journey." 

Isabella  stood  up,  and  said  to  Lucrezia  : 

"  Should  T,  or  should  I  not,  go  to  sleep  with  my  hus- 
band? What  say  you  /*" 

Lady  Frescobaldi,  shrugging  her  shoulders,  replied : 

"  Do  whatever  you  wish  /  he  is  your  husband  still."* 

"  I  will  go  then." 

The  poor  Duchess  descended  slowly,  but  without 
trembling. 

Lady  Lucrezia,  moved  by  curiosity,  or  compassion,  or 
rather  by  both,  stirred  from  her  usual  impassibility, 
decided  to  follow  her  unobserved  in  the  distance. 
Scarcely  did  she  see  her  enter  her  husband's  room,  ere 
she  hastened  her  steps,  and  placed  her  ear  at  the  door. 

She  heard  merry  greetings  and  cheerful  salutations. 

*  Those  were  the  very  words  spoken  by  Isabella  to  Lucrezia,  as  tho 
records  of  the  time  report  them  precisely. 


Death.  317 

"  God  be  thanked,  it  begins  well," — she  murmured. 

Then  listened  again,  and  heard  a  sound  of  laughter, 
and  kisses  given  and  returned. 

"  Better  and  better. . .» 

And  holding  her  breath,  she  still  listened  eagerly. — 
But  we  will  say  no  more,  only  repeat  with  the  Poet : 

The  modest  Muse  forbears  to  speak 
Of  close  embrace  and  flashing  cheek, 

And  kisses  warm,  and  words  of  love ; 
The  strings  though  struck,  no  sounds  return, 
Responsive  to  the  stars  that  burn, 

The  stars  that  in  conjunctions  move; 
But  to  themselves  they  murmur  low 
The  secret  words  that  none  may  know, 

Which * 

Lady  Lucrezia  returned  on  tip-toe  to  her  own  room, 
saying  to  herself:  "I  think  that  there  will  be  no  storm 
in  the  house  after  all,  or  if  there  should  be  one,  we  will 
see  it  terminate  with  some  lightning  perhaps,  but  without 
thunderbolt." 

********* 

Half  an  hour,  or  a  little  more,  had  passed,  from  the 
time  in  which  Lady  Lucrezia  left  the  door  of  the  Duke, 
when  it  opened,  and  Titta  came  out,  crossing  the  hall 
which  led  to  the  door  of  Troilo's  apartment,  and  arriving 

*  Gli  abbracciamenti,  i  baci,  e  i  colpi  lieti, 
Tace  la  casta  Musa  vergognosa, 
E  dalla  congiunzion  di  quei  pianeti 
Ritorce  il  plettro,  e  di  cantar  non  osa. 
Sol  mormora  tra  se  detti  secreti, 
Che  .  TASSONI. 


318  Isabella  Orsini. 

there,  knocked  with  his  knuckles  upon  it,  without  much 
caution. 

Troilo,  although  there  seemed  to  be  no  cause  for  fear, 
yet  either  on  account  of  the  unusual  excitement,  the 
warmth  of  the  day,  or  from  too  much  drinking,  his  blood 
had  become  so  heated,  that,  tossing  about  the  bed,  he 
could  not  sleep.  Therefore  hearing  the  knock  he  jumped 
out  of  bed,  and  opened  the  door. 

"What  is  it,  Titta?" 

"  Sir  Troilo,  my  Lord  the  Duke  ordered  me  to  say  to 
you,  that  he  has  not  been  able  to  sleep. . ." 

"  Just  my  case !  .  .  ." 

"So  much  the  better; — therefore  he  begs  to  know 
whether  you  would  not  like  to  keep  him  company  a  little 
while,  and  have  a  little  chat ...  to  cheer  each  other. . ." 

"  Exactly  what  I  should  like  !  Wait  till  I  dress,  and  I 
will  go  with  you." 

And  putting  on  what  garments  first  came  to  his  hands, 
he  was  soon  ready.  Titta  preceded  him  with  a  lighted 
taper,  but  when  they  arrived  at  the  Duke's  door,  drawing 
aside,  and  bending  low,  he  said  respectfully : 

"  Walk  in,  your  Excellency !" 

Troilo  having  entered,  Titta  shut  the  door,  and  locked 
it,  putting  the  key  in  his  pocket ;  and  when  the  former  had 
entered  the  next  room,  he  carefully  closed  that  door  also, 
remaining  outside. 

Troilo  on  entering  the  room  saw  the  Duke  sitting  beside 
a  table  near  the  bed,  and,  whether  it  was  fancy,  or  the 
effect  of  the  light,  he  thought  he  seemed  as  if  grown  ten 
years  older  since  an  hour  ago.  The  Duke,  without  lifting 
his  eyes,  said : 

"  Troilo,  sit  down." 


Death.  319 

This  voice  does  not  contain  a  threat,  it  has  nothing  of 
rancor  hi  it,  it  is  peaceful  and  low, — and  yet  it  does  not 
seem  to  issue  from  the  lips; — uttered  thus  from  the 
inmost  depth  of  the  heart  as  from  the  bottom  of  a 
sepulchre,  it  had  the  power  of  infusing  a  chill  through 
the  frame  of  Troilo. 

And  Troilo  sat  down. 

"  Troilo,  I  have  words  to  say  which  it  behooves  me 
to  speak,  and  you  to  listen  to  them  in  the  shadows  of 
darkness ; .  .  .  in  the  mysterious  silence  of  night .  . . 
Troilo,  after  three  long  years  of  absence  I  return  home. . . 
But  is  this  to  which  I  have  returned  my  home  ?  Can  I 
sleep  safely  in  it?  Can  I  sit  without  suspicion  at  my  own 
table  ?  .  .  ." 

Troilo,  thus  taken  by  surprise,  was  silent. 

"  Troilo !  When  I  departed  from  home,  knowing  that 
the  woman  who  was  my  wife  . . .  who  is  my  wife,  was 
changeable  in  her  fancy,  of  manners  more  free  and  loose 
than  becomes  a  haughty  lady,  the  fault  perhaps  of  her 
education  . . .  ready  to  pass  all  limits  . . .  somewhat  petu- 
lant and  obstinate  ...  I  hated  to  confide  the  treasure  of 
my  honor  to,  I  will  not  say  unfaithful,  but  certainly 
dangerous  hands. — In  whom  could  I  better  trust  than 
my  own  blood  ?  I  therefore  chose  you,  I  intrusted  to 
you  my  honor,  which  is  also  yours,  and  begged  you  with 
tears  in  my  eyes  to  keep  a  good  and  vigilant  watch  over 
it. ...  Do  you  remember  it,  Troilo  ?  Is  it  not  true  ? 
Would  you  deny  it?  ...  And  even  if  you  would,  could 
you  ?» 

"  It  is  true." 

"  And  do  you  remember  the  promises  which  you  made 
then  ?  Have  you  always  remembered  them  ?  Now  tell 


320  Isabella  Orsini. 

me:  how  have  you  kept  your  loyal  watch  over  my 
wife?" 

The  Duke  kept  his  arm  with  closed  hand  stretched 
upon  the  table ;  the  muscles  of  his  forehead  were  hor- 
ribly swollen,  his  eyebrows  frowning,  and  his  eyes 
sparkled  under  them  through  the  ruffled  hair  like  fire 
burning  in  the  midst  of  a  thorn  bush.  Troilo  still  kept 
silent ;  and  the  Duke  said  again : 

"How  have  you  kept  your  loyal  watch  over  my 
wife?" 

As  there  was  no  reply,  he  continued : 

"  If  I  listen  to  the  reports  which  reached  me  even  in 
Rome,  indeed  my  reputation  is  lost  without  remedy; 
my  house  is  full  of  shame :  henceforth  I  cannot  hear  the 
name  of  my  wife  spoken  without  suspecting  that  it  is 
done  through  insult  or  mockery.  Virginio  will  not  be 
able  to  hear  his  mother's  name  without  bowing  his  face 
for  shame.  We  heard  shameful  things,  cousin,  and  such 
at  which  nature  itself  would  be  horrified  .  .  .  such  that 
no  man  could  possibly  bear,  and  which  I  neither  can, 
nor  know,  nor  wish,  by  any  means  to  suffer." 

"  My  Lord  !"  .  .  .  replied  Troilo  with  faltering  voice ; 
"  could  a  knight  like  you,  gifted  with  the  best  discern- 
ment, as  all  know  .  .  .  experienced  in  the  world  .  .  .  give 
credit  to  such  false  accusations  ...  to  the  words  of  idle 
and  malicious  men?  The  people  generally  repute  ua 
happy,  and  those  whom  envy  gnaws  love  to  hurl  poisoned 
arrows  at  us.  Let  us  make  them  weep,  they  say ;  thus 
they  will  be  our  equals  in  tears  at  last." 

"  You  speak  truly ;  but  the  shameful  report  was  con- 
firmed by  such  a  person  that  now  I  can  no  longer  doubt 
it." 


Death.  321 

"  And  do  you  believe  it  worthy  of  faith  ?" 

"  I  leave  you  to  judge.  Isabella  herself  confessed  it 
to  me." 

"What!  Isabella?" 

"  Isabella." 

"  Your  wife  ?» 

"  She  herself  .  .  .  my  wife.  Now  tell  me,  Troilo,  .  .  . 
is  not  your  name  Orsini  ?  Is  not  the  blood  which  runs 
in  your  veins  of  the  same  race  as  mine  ? — Answer !" 

"Why  reply  to  what  you  know  yourself?" 

"  Because  it  behooves  me  at  this  solemn  moment  to 
hear  it  from  your  own  lips,  and  be  assured  that  you 
remember  it,  that  you  feel  convinced  of  it.  ...  Here  I 
find  myself  surrounded  by  traitors, — for  with  the  excep- 
tion of  my  own  relatives  ...  I  dare  not  hope  to  escape 
being  betrayed.  You  are  then  of  my  blood  ?  .  .  .  Now 
give  me  advice .  .  .  Isabella !  .  .  .  must  I  forgive,  or  kill 
her  ?"  .  .  . 

"  And  shall  I  advise  you  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  But  neither  I  nor  any  one  else  can  believe  me  capa- 
ble of  that.  You  have  more  wisdom  than  I." 

"  I  do  not  think  so ;  and  even  were  it  so,  do  you  not 
know  that  in  such  occasions  man  loses  his  wisdom  ?  Come, 
I  command  you  to  advise  me." 

"  And  then  .  .  .  consider,  Giordano,  how  merciful  is 
the  Lord  .  .  .  and  how  mild  and  clement  appear  those 
famous  men  who  resemble  Him  .  .  .  Let  the  weakness  of 
nature,  the  age  of  the  woman,  the  bad  examples  among 
which  she  was  educated,  obtain  mercy  in  your  eyes ;  .  .  . 
recall  to  your  mind  what  you  said  to  me  a  little  while 
ago  of  her  changeable  mind,  her  poetic  imagination,  the 
14* 


322  Isabella  Orsini. 

time,  the  place,  the  occasion  ; — and  even  .  .  .  fate,  Gior- 
dano, since  we  are  all  governed  by  an  unconquerable 
fate — and  use  mercy  .  .  .  Isabella  can  no  longer  present 
herself  before  you  in  her  innocence,  you  can  never  love 
her  again  .  .  .  and  perhaps  not  even  esteem  her  .  .  .  and 
yet  there  remains  a  consolation  to  the  injured  one,  bitter, 
it  is  true,  but  yet  desirable,  that  is,  to  feel  himself  unde- 
serving of  the  insult,  and  to  see  the  offender  truly 
repentant." 

"  You  see  that  you  do  not  want  wisdom !  You  cer- 
tainly do  not  lack  eloquence !  .  .  .  And  I  thought  so  !  In 
truth  I  would  follow  your  advice,  but  one  idea  keeps  me 
from  it,  which  is  this :  in  such  an  affair  is  my  honor  only 
at  stake  ?  Ought  we  not  to  consider  the  honor  of  the 
family  as  an  entail,  which  I  am  not  allowed  to  alienate, 
and  not  even  diminish,  but  which  I  must  restore  to  my 
children  as  pure  and  intact  as  I  received  it  from  my 
ancestors  ?  Doing  otherwise,  does  it  not  seem  to  you 
that  some  day  I  may  hear  my  ancestors  say  to  me : — 
what  have  you  done  with  our  patrimony  ? — and  my  chil- 
dren : — This  is  not  our  inheritance  ?" 

"  For  my  own  part  I  believe  that  it  is  noble  to  seek  and 
accomplish  a  difficult  revenge ;  but  it  seems  to  me  also  a 
proof  of  a  generous  soul  to  relinquish  the  revenge  that 
can  be  executed  by  merely  wishing  it.  To  conquer  others 
is  a  praiseworthy  thing,  but  to  conquer  one's  own  passions 
is  manly  and  divine." 

"  And  for  this  reason  too  would  I  be  almost  willing  to 
pardon  her ;  . . .  only  that  another  motive  distresses  me, 
and  closes  my  heart  to  mercy ;  and  it  is  the  refusal  of 
my  wife  to  reveal  the  name  of  her  seducer." 

"  And  do  you  not  know  it  ?" 


Death.  323 

"  No. . .  Do  you  ?» 

"I?  No." 

"  So  I  thought,  for  you  had  other  things  in  your  mind 
than  watching  my  wife ;  and  you  have  committed  a  great 
wrong  against  me  and  my  house,  Troilo,  a  wrong  which 
I  know  not  how  to  forgive  you.  But  perhaps  the  fault 
was  not  entirely  on  your  side,  it  was  rather  in  a  great 
measure  my  own,  for  I,  knowing  you  to  be  young,  desirous 
of  glory,  and  of  a  noble  heart,  should  have  allowed  you 
to  attend  to  other  things,  rather  than  be  the  eunuch  of  a 
palace." 

"  And  does  she  then  refuse  to  reveal  the  name  ?" 

"  Neither  by  prayer,  nor  threat,  nor  hope  of  pardon 
was  I  able  to  induce  her  to  reveal  it." 

"  Indeed  this  is  a  grave  fault. . .  And  you  tried  all 
means  to  make  her  speak  ?" 

"All." 

"  There,  you  see  then  how  difficult  it  is  to  give  advice 
when  one  is  ignorant  of  all  the  particulars : — if  I  had 
known  her  obstinacy  in  this  particular  before,  I  would 
have  advised  you  differently." 

"  Indeed !" 

"  Rather  the  contrary." 

"  You  agree  with  me  then  !  I  am  inevitably  forced  to 
use  severity :  would  that  I  knew  at  least  the  man  who  did 
not  scruple  to  contaminate  my  house  while  I  was  shedding 
my  blood  for  the  Faith  . . .  the  man  whom  neither  the 
respect  due  to  my  house  . . .  nay,  more  than  that,  the  fear 
of  my  sword  did  not  deter  from  this  abominable  crime ! 
— Ah !  I  would  think  myself  less  unhappy  if  I  could 
plunge  my  hands  in  his  blood,  and  tear  forth  his  heart. . . 
And,  believe  me,  Troilo,  I  would  do  it,  as  true  as  there  is 


324  Isabella  Orsini. 

a  God  . . .  but  the  coward  hides  himself. . .  Oh,  who  art 
thou,  who  wounded  me  so  mortally,  and  did  not  take 
my  life?  What  is  thy  name? — Show  thyself! — Alas! 
how  painful  is  the  offence  done  by  an  obscure,  abject, 
and  unknown  person,  against  whom  we  cannot  revenge 
ourselves,  or  revenging  we  may  be  more  stained  by  the 
revenge  itself  than  by  the  insult." 

"Indeed  such  offences  deserve  an  atonement  of  blood." 

"But  since  I  cannot  shed  that  of  the  hated  seducer . . . 
what  think  you  ?" 

"  It  seems  to  me  .  .  ." 

"  No  ...  no  faltering,"  said  the  Duke  rising  to  his  feet ; 
"  here  it  is  necessary  that  you  should  reveal  to  me  your 
whole  mind." 

"Then.  .  .'» 

"  Then  ?  .  .  .  Why  do  you  hesitate  ?  Here  no  one  can 
overhear  us  ...  no  one." 

"Then  . . .  the  jealous  honor  of  the  family  requires  that 
. . .  that  Isabella  should  disappear  from  the  world." 

"It  is  well,"  replied  the  Duke ;  and  stretching  his  hand 
to  the  curtains  of  the  bed,  he  drew  them  aside,  adding : 
— "  Behold  ...  I  have  done  it." 

"  Vengeance  of  God !"  cried  Troilo,  rising  and  stagger- 
ing back  two  or  three  steps  with  his  hands  in  his  hair. 

She  who  had  been  Isabella  Orsini  reclined  on  the  bed 
in  a  sitting  posture:  her  hair  loose  and  dishevelled, 
her  arms  stretched  out,  her  face  black,  her  eyes  open, 
intent,  and  almost  bursting  from  their  sockets  ...  a  line 
rope  yet  girded  her  delicate  neck,  the  ends  of  which  were 
lost  in  the  darkness  of  the  room,  and  fastened  in  the 
ceiling. 

Miserable  spectacle  of  crime  and  perfidy ! 


Death.  325 

"  Thus  perished  Isabella  dei  Medici,  who  would  have 
made  herself  and  others  happy,  if  heaven  had  granted 
to  her  either  less  beauty,  or  greater  virtue,  or  better 
parents."* 

The  Duke,  also  as  pale  as  death,  repressing  with  violent 
effort  the  passion  which  agitated  his  soul,  stood  immov- 
able in  his  place  where  with  one  hand  holding  the  curtains 
back,  and  stretching  the  other  towards  his  cousin,  he 
thus  spoke : 

"  Xow  my  bed  has  become  deserted  .  .  .  for  every 
woman  will  fear  that  it  will  be  turned  into  a  scaffold ; — 
my  house  is  deserted,  for  the  father  cannot  live  with  the 
son  whose  mother  he  has  strangled.  .  .  Days  of  sorrow 
and  infamy, — sleepless  nights,  filled  with  remorse  and 
fear, — bitter  death  .  .  .  terrible  judgement  of  God, — 
behold  the  peace  which  thou  hast  given  me,  Troilo  ! — 
Thou,  and  no  one  else ! — I  know  thee  .  .  .  fully  .  .  . 
iniquitous  and  abject  man  . . .  and  I  feel  and  know  that 
death  must  have  been  less  bitter  to  this  woman,  who 
was  my  wife,  than  the  knowledge  of  having  lost  the 
dignity  of  a  Princess,  of  a  wife  and  of  a  mother  ...  for  so 
miserable  and  degraded  a  creature  as  thou  art. — "Wretch  ! 
The  secret  died  not  with  thy  accomplice  ...  no  ...  nor 
with  her  murder  did  I  lose  the  trace  of  the  traitor. — 
Now  it  is  for  thee  to  die.  I  could  and  should  abstain 
from  taking  thy  miserable  soul  from  thy  body  with  this 
honorable  hand  of  a  knight ;  a  villain  is  enough  for  a 
villain  ; — but  as  thou  wilt  suffer  a  deserved  death,  I  do 
not  wish  that  thou  shouldst  complain  of  the  manner  of 
it,  if  we  ever  meet  again  in  the  next  world." 

*  BOTTA,  History  of  Italy,  book  XIV. 


326  Isabella  Orsini. 

Thus  saying,  he  took  two  drawn  swords,  that  lay  at 
the  feet  of  the  corpse,  and  throwing  one  of  them  on  the 
ground  towards  Troilo,  added : 

"  Take  it  up,  and  defend  thyself;  and  since  thou  hast 
lived  as  a  traitor,  die  at  least  as  a  gentleman." 

Like  a  bow  bent  by  a  strong  hand,  that  snapping 
the  cord  straightens  violently,  thus  Troilo  starting  up,  as 
if  possessed  by  a  demon,  gave  a  leap  towards  the  open 
window  behind  him,  leaned  with  both  hands  upon  the 
seat,  and  with  one  leap  jumped  out  of  it.  As  fortune 
willed,  although  he  fell  on  his  head,  he  received  no  injury, 
on  account  of  the  window  not  being  high  from  the  ground. 
Starting  again  upon  his  feet,  he  rushed  precipitately  down 
the  staircase. 

The  Duke,  seeing  this  act,  with  no  less  fury  rushed 
after  him  through  the  window,  sword  in  hand. 

Not  a  word — not  a  threat — there  was  only  heard  the 
sound  of  hurried  steps  upon  the  stairs. 

Troilo,  losing  breath,  and  out  of  practice  in  violent 
exercises,  would  have  easily  been  overtaken  by  the  Duke, 
had  not  the  latter,  stumbling  against  a  projecting  step, 
fallen  headlong  down  the  marble  stairs,  and  bruised 
himself  badly.  The  sword  escaped  from  his  hand,  and 
falling  down  from  step  to  step,  broke  the  silence  of  the 
night  with  a  dreadful  clatter,  and  glided  far  away  into 
the  public  road. 

Not  only  was  the  Duke  unable  to  pursue  Troilo  further, 
but  he  could  hardly  raise  himself  again ;  yet  leaning  his 
body  upon  his  elbows  fixed  in  the  ground,  he  turned  his 
head  to  where  Troilo  was  fast  disappearing,  and  sent  after 
him  through  the  darkness  of  the  night  this  dreadful 
menace : 


Death.  327 

"  Since  thou  hast  not  desired  to  die  like  a  knight,  many 
months  will  not  pass  before  thou  shalt  die  like  a  dog !" 

Titta  rushed  to  the  aid  of  his  master :  lifted  him  up, 
and  with  loving  care  washed  and  bandaged  his  bruises ; 
then  placed  him,  raving  feverishly,  upon  a  bed  in  the 
antechamber. 

He  went  afterwards  to  Lady  Lucrezia,  who,  overcome 
by  the  dreadful  event,  much  more  so  to  her  as  not  expected, 
remained  insensible  for  more  than  an  hour ;  and  as  long  as 
she  lived  never  recovered  from  the  shock,  nor  was  she  ever 
seen  to  smile  or  rejoice  again.  Having  returned  to  her 
senses,  Titta  placed  himself  before  her,  and  with  his  right 
forefinger  pointing  in  the  middle  of  his  eye-brows,  prof- 
fered very  slowly  the  following  words : 

"  Lady !  .  .  .  Listen  attentively !  . .  .  Our  Lady  the 
Duchess  died  suddenly  ...  of  apoplexy  .  .  .  whilst  she 
was  washing  her  head  with  cold  water,  ...  by  which 
accident . . .  she  fell  into  your  arms  . . .  and  died  before 
we  had  time  to  call  for  any  help. . .  Be  careful,  Lady, 
of  mistaking,  as  you  love  your  life ! . . .  The  notices  to 
be  given,  of  her  death,  to  the  several  Courts — already 
prepared  since  yesterday — say  exactly  this.  Be  then  on 
your  guard.  .  ."* 

Titta  then  removed  the  body  to  the  apartment  belong- 
ing to  the  Duchess,  and  arranged  it  upon  the  bed.  Lady 
Lucrezia  send  for  Inigo,  and  told  him  word  for  word 
what  Titta  had  said.  The  majordomo  glancing  at  the 
corpse,  understood  the  case  too  well,  and  taking  with 

*  The  notices  given  to  the  Courts  of  Europe  contained  these  words ; 
"  that  this  unhappy  Lady,  while  washing  her  head  with  cold  water, 
struck  by  apoplexy,  fell  into  the  arms  of  her  attendants,  and  died 
before  any  assistance  could  be  given  her." — GALLCZZI'S  History. 


328  Isabella  Orsini. 

his  left  hand  the  hem  of  the  sheet,  covered  its  blackened 
face,  whilst  with  his  right  he  wiped  a  tear  from  his  eyes. 
— Inigo,  the  majordomo,  reputed  a  heart  of  stone, 
wept! 

"  May  God  receive  in  peace  the  soul  of  this  poor  Lady !" 
said  he,  and  with  a  deep  sigh  he  left  the  room. 

A  great  and  solemn  funeral  was  performed  over  the 
body  of  Isabella :  servants,  relatives — her  husband  and 
brothers,  put  on  mourning.  Over  the  bier  was  recited 
a  funeral  oration,  composed  by  an  academician  of  the 
Crusca,  in  classic  Tuscan  language. 

The  price  of  her  blood  was,  in  part  payment,  and  in 
part  arrangement  of  the  Duke's  debts,  and  this  is  narrated 
by  Galluzzi.* 

Settimanni  also  informs  us  that  the  Duke  of  Bracciano 
obtained  from  the  munificence  of  his  brother-in-law  even 
a  greater  reward  in  the  following  October,  which  was 
the  donation  of  the  estate  of  Poggio  a  HaronceZli,  to- 
day called  Poggio  Jmperiale.  f 

But  God's  judgment  rewarded  to  the  Duke  according 
to  his  deserts.  He  died  a  horrible  death ;  his  soul  was 
contaminated  with  new  crimes,  for  blood  calls  for  blood, 
as  it  is  with  wine  ;  and  that  judgment  was  entailed,  so 
that  his  descendants  also  feared  it.  And  if  fortune  will 

*  "  Not  only  did  the  Grand-Duke  and  the  Cardinal  keep  their  good 
relationship  with  Orsini,  but  also  interested  themselves  in  appeasing 
his  creditors,  and  gave  some  system  to  his  embarrassed  economy. 
All  this  would  prove  that,  either  the  death  of  Donna  Isabella  was 
not  violent,  or  that  the  Grand-Duke  and  his  brothers,  being  in  the 
secret  with  Orsini,  with  their  dissimulation  rendered  the  crime  more 
detestable." 

f  Settimanni.   MSS.  Chronicle. 


Death.  329 

grant  us  time  and  health,  the  subsequent  history  of  the 
life  of  the  Duke  of  Bracciano  shall  form  the  subject  of 
another  narrative. 

The  following  passage  from  the  History  of  Galluzzi  will 
inform  the  reader  of  the  fate  of  Troilo  Orsini. 

"  The  Grand-Duke,  determined,  however,  to  sound  the 
opinions  of  Queen  Catherine,  sent  his  Secretary  to  that 
Court  under  the  pretext  of  collecting  the  balance  of  the 
money  which  he  had  loaned  to  king  Charles  IX.,  for  it 
was  then  due.  The  Secretary's  commission  extended  no 
further,  but  liberty  had  also  been  given  him,  to  reproach, 
according  to  the  occasion,  the  Queen's  ill  will  against  the 
Medici  house,  and  the  injury  done  the  Grand-Duke.  The 
Secretary  having  arrived  in  Paris,  and  delivered  his 
commission,  the  Queen  said  to  him : — I  know  not  how 
to  satisfy  this  desire  of  the  Grand-Duke,  for  he  lends 
to  the  King  of  Spain  a  million  of  gold  at  a  time,  and 
with  us  he  even  demands  back  such  a  little  sum. — The 
Secretary  remonstrated  that  if  the  King  of  Spain  had 
been  helped  with  large  sums,  he  had  at  least  shown  more 
esteem  for  the  Grand-Duke  than  she  had  done,  for  she 
had  ill-treated  him,  and  done  him  an  injury  which  he 
did  not  deserve. — This  I  confess,  said  she,  and  I  did  it 
because  the  Grand-Duke  ha#  no  respect  for  me,  rather 
with  much  grief  to  myself  and  to  the  King  he  has  caused 
the  assassination  under  our  own  eyes,  of  Troilo  Orsini, 
and  others,  which  is  not  right,  this  Kingdom  being  free 
to  any  one  to  reside  here. — The  Secretary  replied,  that 
Orsiui  and  others,  having  been  guilty  of  grave  offences 
against  the  Grand-Duke,  it  was  not  becoming  in  her, 
who  was  of  his  own  blood,  to  protect,  and  aid  them  with 
money. — Enough,  replied  the  Queen,  write  to  the  Grand- 


330  Isabella  Orsini. 

Duke  not  to  continue  thus  any  longer,  and  particularly 
not  to  order  any  assassination  to  be  committed  in  this 
Kingdom,  for  the  King,  my  son,  will  not  allow  it." 


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